Think You Know But You Don't
by Villain
Summary: There's a contest for an open scholarship and Kyle thinks Wendy is his biggest competition. In an unexpected twist it's Token who gets first place.  Kyle confronts him and something surprising begins to develop between them. Token/Kyle, hints of K2
1. Chapter 1

A/N: To my knowledge this is the first fic with Token/Kyle as the main pairing to be posted (at least on ff or ao3). One other fic is categorized as such but the pairing hasn't been written into the story yet. So, um, hurrah for pioneering ships? : /

All characters involved in anything resembling sexual activity are 18+.

...

**Think You Know But You Don't**

Someone needed to explain this to him _now._

"It's probably because he gets laid regularly," Kenny suggested, slapping a hand down on Kyle's shoulder. "You know, it gets the mental juices flowing." He mimicked what one could only assume to be his mental juices flowing and Kyle looked slightly ill in response.

"That makes no sense," Kyle deadpanned, "Considering that all your blood would be traveling _away_ from your brain." Leaning closely, Kyle squinted at the announcement on the school board, the three names printed in bold Times New Roman bordered by gaudy flourishes of smiley faces and gold stars. There he was, sandwiched between two other names. Forget first the worst, second the best. There was _only_ first in Kyle's mind. He'd only ever _been_ first, after all. This was wrong. It had to be a mistake. Maybe they accidentally went in alphabetical order instead of placement order?

Where's Stan when you need him, Kenny thought helplessly as Kyle unceremoniously thunked his head against the wall. Then he did it again, Kenny scrambling to catch him before he did it a third time. Desperately he pushed his lunch in between the Jew's forehead and the unforgiving plaster. "Dude!" The bag of potato chips popped on impact and bits of chip littered the floor and coated Kyle's shoulder. Kenny watched awkwardly as Kyle just smooshed his face further into the welcoming cellophane pillow while a few more dejected potato chips, shattered, slipped out to rest in the curls of his red hair.

"Just leave me here to die," Kyle groaned into the potato chip bag. He was sure he could feel the three names burning through the material to brand themselves across his face. Second best. Second fiddle. Second string. Second you completely suck and are a worthless waste of space. "Go on, Kenny. Save yourself before I suck you into my vortex of shame."

Annoyed, Kenny sighed. "Not before you pay me the buck fiddy that those chips cost. You can mope all you want, but unless you expect me to lick my lunch off of your body..." He trailed off. "I'd be game for that, matter of fact."

Shooting a black look over his shoulder, Kyle mumbled, "My mom made me some matzo balls you can have." Then he slumped back against the wall. "But what does it even matter!" he wailed, suddenly spinning around to grab Kenny by the shoulders. "I savored today, Kenny." He shook the blond, eyes crazed. "I took my sweet time getting dressed after Gym so that I could let the suspense _build_ into a delicious fury of need."

A dopy grin dressed Kenny's face. "That kinda turns me on, dude."

"And now _this_. THIS." Whirling, practically sending Kenny flying as his shoulder bag went careening into the side of his friend's face, Kyle pressed himself against the wall intimately, finger absently stroking his name neatly typed out on the posting. "Defeat. Miserable, humiliating defeat," he whispered, green eyes darting over manically when Kenny called to Stan, who had just come out of class.

"He's gone insane," Kenny stage-whispered. "He's going all Golem and it's freaking me out."

Flinging himself at his best friend, Kyle dramatically clutched the straps of his backpack. "Stan, this can't be true, right? I mean, you know how hard I worked on that research project. I turned down a Counter-Strike tournament to study for it; what more dedication can you ask for?" He only realized that he'd started shaking Stan when his best friend flicked him hard on the tip of the nose with his forefinger. Yowling like a cat and springing backwards, Kyle crouched defensively, rubbing at his nose.

"Wendy got third and you don't see her going all Sappho over it," he grunted.

"Ok, I think you mean Sybil, and don't reference your class reading to me, Stan," he snapped disdainfully. "You Sparknotes it all anyway. Besides, Wendy's used to coming in second. To me." He felt like cackling to make himself feel better, but Stan's irritated look stopped him.

"Well, who got first?" he asked, craning forward over Kyle's tense form. "Wow, Token? I guess I'm not surprised."

"What?" he hissed, leaping to his feet between Stan and the wall, their noses practically touching; the tip of his still red where Stan flicked it. "Whose super best friend _are_ you, anyway?"

Heaving an exasperated sigh of epic levels, Stan slung his arm around Kyle, drawing him away from the posting. "How about we head home, watch some TV, play some Metal Gear and go into a sugar coma - well, not you cuz you might die." He raised his eyebrows meaningfully at Kenny over the Jew's head and the blond dutifully appeared on Kyle's other side, his own arm adding to the weight across the skinny kid's back.

"Yeah, Kyle, and I can show you the new titty mag that Kevin got me from Thailand. You wouldn't believe the shit these chicks do-"

Their voices dropped away into the background as Kyle suddenly stared hard across the foyer. The very subject of his ire was currently talking to Wendy Testaburger, who had secured herself third place in the scholarship competition.

Token Black, the asshole that had Shanghaied Kyle's first place glory. It was _Kyle_, not Token, who should have won the research project that would have awarded him a $10,000 open scholarship to be used at any university.

Token. Must. Die.

Dropping out from under Stan and Kenny's hold and making it across the room before they even noticed he was missing, Kyle went right up to Token and said in a tightly controlled voice, "Funny how they messed up on the order. Must be a typo."

Blinking at the redhead, Token glanced at a confused Wendy before fully facing the other boy. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"It means that they either made a mistake or you cheated, Token."

The silence that followed was agonizing. Token's eyes widened, Wendy's jaw dropped, and all surrounding students fell into a hush. The only sound was Stan's distinct facepalm and Kenny's warbly, "Duuuuuuude."

Like a wave building before crashing onto shore, the hall broke into buzzing whispers, cascading over Kyle as he realized what he'd said. Token's face was completely blank as he turned on his heel and calmly left the foyer. Wendy, however, was nothing near calm.

"You _asshole_," she seethed, shoving him. "What kind of fucked up thing is that to say, Kyle? Are you kidding me?"

"So the Jew is racist against blacks, huh?" Cartman trumpeted over the students' heads. He strode forward, a huge grin plastered across his face. "Well, Kahl. Showing your true colors, are we? You don't think a black man can get to the top legitimately; he has to cheat his way up?" Stabbing Kyle in the chest with a porky finger, Cartman guffawed into his stricken face. "Don't you look like a completely douche," he said quietly so that only Kyle could hear him.

Stan came sweeping in to the rescue, sliding between the rivals easily to herd Kyle away as Kenny took over crowd control. They made it out the double doors into the Goths' corner, passing by the sallow-faced sentinels to get to Stan's car.

Inside Kyle buried his face in his hands, curling into a little ball as far as the seatbelt would let him. Bits of potato chip still clung to his hair and dusted his coat. Casting a sympathetic eye over his friend, Stan craned around to back out of the parking lot. Leaving before last class meant the roads were practically empty, and that Stan's house was clear for another couple of hours. He pulled into the driveway, observing Kyle in the same semi-fetal position in the passenger seat. The redhead looked like a miserable puddle of shame. Sighing for the umpteenth time that day, Stan rubbed Kyle's back. "Look," he started, "I doubt anyone will remember by tomorrow."

"Quite enough damage done already, thank you Stan," was the muffled reply. "Lying to me really isn't going to help."

Snapping off the seatbelt he relaxed back into his seat. Eyes slipping shut as he inhaled the slightly dusty scent of his dad's old car, Stan reached over and rested his hand on top of Kyle's head.

A bit later Kenny sauntered up to the car, finding the two of them in the same position. Knocking on the window, he yelled through the glass, "Kyle, you're going to get a serious crick in your neck and Stan, Wendy told me to tell you that Kyle better apologize to Token or she's gonna kick his ass." Drawing back as Stan rolled down the window he added, "Also, Cartman has started a smear campaign. He has a video and everything. I think he just walks around with his phone set to record all day, just waiting for this shit to go down. There's even a _forum_ online already."

Sporting a slightly constipated expression, Kyle finally resurfaced, eyes swollen. "And Token, has he said anything?"

"Bebe tried to call him, but no luck," he said, shrugging. "You know Token, he's practically allergic to drama; he's probably just going to stay out of it." Glancing back over his shoulder to look down the street, Kenny leaned down on the open window, directing his next words to Stan, "Cartman's on his way for a 'quote' as he puts it. He convinced Craig to come along with his video camera, so if I were you I'd make like a baby and head out."

"EW," Kyle interjected, affronted.

"Fuck. Well, hop in," Stan decided wearily, unlocking the back door. Kenny tumbled happily inside, snagging the unopened package of jerky Stan usually munched on after football practice. "Is your place all right?"

" 'Course," Kenny answered enthusiastically, "I can show you those titty mags after all."

"Great," mumbled a bemused Kyle. "On the run from the Fatass, accused of racism by my classmates, and looking forward to an ass-kicking by Wendy if I don't apologize to Token. What's to show for it all? Tits. Not even near my favorite thing, Kenny."

"Maybe my man teats would be more satisfying for you," he leered, lifting his shirt in order to attempt to stuff a nipple into Kyle's ear.

"I thought we agreed no nipples anywhere near my face!" he screeched, swinging his bag at Kenny's head. After the blond scrambled free of Kyle's satchel, they all fell into silence again as Stan drove, Kenny chewing the jerky like a cow would its cud.

"You're going to though, right?" quipped Kenny, poking his head over the seat and effectively breaking the tense silence.

"What?" he asked flippantly.

"Saying sorry? You know, for accusing Token of cheating even though he has a solid 4.0 and is going to be valedictorian along with you and Wendy?" Kenny said sarcastically, jabbing a piece of jerky into Kyle's cheek. "I know Stan here will stay loyal and go down with the ship that is you, but I'm not gonna lie dude; that was seriously a dick move."

"And you somehow think I'm not already aware of this," he snarled through gritted teeth. "I feel like shit, okay?"

"Kenny, back off," Stan warned, glaring at the blond through the rear-view mirror.

Kenny held up his hands defensively. "The peanut gallery is officially closing. I will voluntarily silence myself with ample amounts of this delicious jerky."

When they got to Kenny's house, his little sister Karen ran up to the car. She had the biggest crush on Stan and Kenny could never get enough of a kick out of it. "Hey, you're number one fan, Stanley," he hooted, pouring out of the car to sweep his sister up in a bear hug. "Karen, you're taller!"

She giggled hysterically, face blushing a deep red as she glanced at Stan. "Taller than this morning?"

He nodded solemnly. "It must be those vegetables you've been eating, huh?"

She wrinkled her nose, hanging like a monkey off his neck. "Yuck."

"Yuck, but important yuck," he pointed out, swinging her back and forth to her utter delight as he took monster-sized steps up to the front door.

Stan shook his head, laughing. Even Kyle couldn't help but crack a smile at the obvious adoration that Kenny held for his sister. Following their friend in, they found his older brother spread across the couch, fast asleep. Kenny handed Karen off to an awkward Stan before stalking over to his brother, snatching up one half-empty six-pack along with a full one. Chortling, he jerked his head meaningfully towards his room. Stan let Karen slide to the floor and she waved at them bashfully as they picked their way across the messy living room after Kenny.

"So as we are in hiding," Kenny announced, shoving over piles of clothes to make room on his bed, "We can amuse ourselves with beef jerky, beer, and titty magazines. Seriously, these Thai chicks-"

"I should go clear this up with Token before Cartman makes it so much worse," Kyle interrupted, searching Stan's face for an opinion. His best friend cracked open a beer, waving off the magazine Kenny was trying to shove into his face.

"Honestly, you might to let him cool off a little," he suggested, finally rolling his eyes and taking one of Kenny's magazines. Flipping it open he almost spit out his beer. "What the _fuck_?"

"I. Know," Kenny gushed, "How is that even physically possible?"

As the two quickly became engrossed in the mechanics involved with the magazine content, Kyle made his decision and stood up. "Gonna take a leak," he said noncommittally. Two grunts answered him and he slipped out.

Twenty minutes later he realized that he had grossly underestimated the distance from the poor part of town to the rich part of town. Which had given him plenty of time to mull things over and conclude that yes, he was still pissed. As he passed into the suburban stretch of white picket fences and manicured gardens Kyle worked himself into another frenzy. Token didn't even _need_ the money. For Christ's sake, his family was the richest in all of South Park. He could go to - and pay for - any college he wanted. Kyle was so caught up in his thoughts that he didn't realize he had passed Token's house entirely and made a full circle around the cul-de-sac until Token himself stepped into his path with a mildly annoyed expression.

"You're scaring my neighbor," he said flatly. Behind him a little girl poked her head out of the front door of the house next to Token's, eyeing Kyle suspiciously. She was holding a frying pan aloft like a bludgeoning stick.

Recovering from his surprise, Kyle squared his shoulders. "So what, you're the neighborhood bouncer or something?"

"Look, I can guess what you're here for and I'm not interested in hearing you preach about how I must have cheated-"

"I don't think that," he sputtered, taking a step closer to the other boy. Out of the corner of his eye he saw the little neighbor girl heft her frying pan threateningly and decided to not push it. Keeping a safe distance away, he cleared his throat. "Can we, uh, talk inside? That kid's scaring me."

After Token had grudgingly led him back into his house, Kyle found himself standing awkwardly in the giant front hall with Token regarding him with expectance.

He looked the redhead up and down slowly, sizing him up. Kyle had never been a dick to him before. When their respective friend groups got into stupid fights it was Kyle and Token who remained neutrally on the side lines, maybe sharing a look of chagrin or two over the heads of their friends as Craig and Stan strutted around each other like roosters in a chicken coop. But besides that they'd only ever interacted on a strictly academic basis. They'd never been paired up in class; a tactic Token was sure the teacher employed to try and make it fair for the other students. And thus far Kyle had always come out on top in academic events like the spelling bee or the mathematic triathlons. That was mostly due to apathy on Token's part.

Taking a deep breath, Kyle met Token's skeptical brown eyes and spoke, his voice echoing in the huge space. It was jarring. "I know you didn't cheat. That was... well, I acted like a douche and I apologize for that, but-" He cut himself off, staring angrily down at his shoes.

"But what?" Token asked, leaning casually on the base of a huge ivory statue acting as the centerpiece between twin staircases leading to the upper floors.

"But you don't need this," he rushed, face turning red. Gesticulating wildly, he beseeched the other boy, "You're the richest kid in town so it's... it's stupid that you should win! That you should even go for a scholarship like that!"

Taken aback, Token stepped away from the statue and walked up to Kyle, arms still crossed. "Honestly Kyle, I think _you're_ being stupid." Token tried to push past the redhead to go to the door and hopefully end this interaction, but Kyle grabbed his arm.

"You don't even need the scholarship," he insisted, "Your family's rich -"

"And your dad's a lawyer, just like mine. What's your point?"

Sputtering, Kyle clenched his fists at his sides, "So? He's a lawyer in a backwater town like South Park!" Glaring hotly into Token's face, he added, "You'll get tons of minority scholarships as it is since you're black!"

A derisive laugh bubbled up on his lips, but he held it back. "So let whitey have this one is that what you're saying," Token said in a deceptively calm tone. "Or is it that you think because you're Jewish you're somehow outdoing me as an oppressed person?"

"I just think that if it's scholarships you're intent on - even though you don't need them," the redhead spat, "there are a lot more resources around for a person of color."

"So that's why the Jewish community has historically been a financially stable group of people. Is it because they whine and cry money out from under other oppressed groups?"

"I get called racist, but you're anti-Semitic?" Kyle raged, leaning into Token's personal space. "Fuck you."

"Kyle," Token bit out, voice finally raising sharply in volume, "I was making a point. Do you realize that you are basically making this into a minority-off? Cartman would be masturbating to this conversation; 'ooh, I'm so much more oppressed than you'. You don't know the half of it, Broflovski."

"I can't believe you," he yelled, throwing his hands up, "What else is there to know? You entered a contest and by some fluke won it. Was this just on whim for you?"

"Shut up, Kyle!" Token shouted with hands balled into fists. "I really wish you'd get off your pedestal and quit acting like some spoiled brat. I do need that money as a matter of fact. A hell of a lot more than you. Now, leave." He stomped over to the front door and yanked it open. When Kyle didn't move he growled, going again to the redhead and attempting to drag him out.

"No!" he protested, wriggling. "You have some fucking explaining to do!"

"I don't owe you anything, Broflovski," he replied coldly. "We're not friends, so I don't give a fuck if you're offended. It's my business, not the business of some sore loser."

"I think you _do_ owe it to me!" he demanded, barely restraining himself from stomping his foot in agitation. "You've never joined things like this before, and now suddenly when it matters to me you do. I think as someone who deserved to win that $10,000 I am allowed to ask questions."

"My mistake. You're not just a sore loser, you're a giant dick," he said morosely. "Are you really saying that I didn't deserve it?"

Trembling with anger, Kyle ground out through clenched teeth, "I want to know why. Why this time?"

Sighing heavily, Token looked at Kyle for upwards of a minute. His expression softened into a look of weary resolve. "Tweek thinks you're gay."

Once the words sunk in Kyle balked. "_Tweek_ thinks I'm gay? That's an abrupt subject change." Still very much on edge, Kyle narrowed his eyes. "Where is this going?"

"Look, Kyle, I _know_ you're gay so I'm hoping you can understand where I'm coming from. I still think you're a dipshit for the way you're acting, but I guess I can explain so you don't wet your panties."

Currently flustered, Kyle let the insult pass as Token continued to talk, brown eyes cast into the distance.

"I am, too." He heard a sharp intake of breath, but didn't laugh. "The guys know, but not my parents. And I'm pretty sure they won't be okay with it." His gaze moved down when he realized Kyle had slumped down to the floor, looking confused. "Basically if I tell them, there's a very real chance that I'll get kicked out." Expression spiraling into deeper confusion, Kyle presented a comical image, but Token was too serious to find humor in the moment. "If I want to go to college, I'll need all the help I can get, because my parents probably won't want to shell out money for their gay son." Voice cracking slightly, Token sat down on the floor next to his classmate. "Even if they disown me, I still won't be able to get financial aid because they're my parents and they make bank." Checking to make sure Kyle was following, he waited until the redhead made an acknowledging grunt, green eyes fixed on his face. "That's why I entered this thing. When high school is over I'm telling them no matter what, so I'm preparing for the worst."

"Dude," Kyle said meekly, "I didn't know. I told my family a while ago and they're okay with it - I mean, Mom more than Dad, but he's coming around." Shaking his head, he looked at Token with clear concern. "You really think it'd go bad?"

"Yes," he confirmed with heart-wrenching conviction. "Look, I know that I'm the richest kid in town but that might not last, and that scholarship could save me."

It was an understatement to say that he felt awful. Kyle felt _fucking_ awful, like the biggest dick in the world. "I'm sorry, Token," he said sincerely. "I do understand. I think I was just... uh, surprised-"

"Don't play, Kyle," Token said laughingly, "Your ego got bruised."

"Okay, fine," he acquiesced, "I'm a dildo."

Their knees touched. Token gazed down before saying hesitantly, "Don't spread this around. Not even to Stan. Not yet."

In his entire time knowing Token, who had always been self-assured and confident, Kyle had never seen the open look of vulnerability on his face. Shrugging, Kyle gave him a comforting smile, "Birds of a feather right? I won't, uh, betray the flock."

"I don't think two 'birds' justifies a flock," Token laughingly pointed out.

"Well, so we're a small flock," he chuckled, watching the other boy's face lose the lines of stress. When Token met his gaze again his eyes were warm.

"Do you think there are any other birds around? I've always had my doubts about Kenny," he hinted.

"Kenny's in a league of his own," Kyle grunted, waving his hand dismissively. "It's Cartman that's a real puzzle - a deeply disturbing puzzle. On second thought, let's not talk about Cartman."

"Yeah, I heard about the online forum."

"Jesus," he groaned, sliding to the side and squishing his face up against the wall. Token mirrored him. "How am I going to fix this mess?"

One eye forced to squint comically as his cheek was pressed Token lifted his free hand. "Seeing as I'm the other half of our lame-ass flock..." he trailed off, smiling when Kyle reached out to clap their hands together. "With our minority statuses combined, the negro fag and the Jew fag join forces to combat the closeted neo-nazi."

Eyes squinched as he cracked up, Kyle gripped Token's hand, barely able to breathe. "The beginning of a beautiful flockhood," he agreed jokingly.

What started as a contest to see who could make more minority puns quickly dissolved into an impromptu session of bonding. After checking in with his mother, and then with his other mother, Stan, Kyle stayed for dinner at the Blacks' house. Token's parents gushed about how it was such a treat to have him over and that they were overjoyed he and their little Token were finally friends.

"You smart kids," Token's father started, "Ought to stick together."

"Birds of a feather flock together," Token's mother added warmly.

When their eyes met across the table the laughter dancing in their gaze was unmistakable.

"I can't believe I don't have your number," Kyle said, dialing Token into his phone. "But then again, it makes sense. The West Side Story that is our friend groups, after all."

Crooking a hip against the doorway, Token crossed his arms. "Speaking of that, Craig's gonna have a conniption fit when I drive you to school tomorrow."

"I'd pay to see that. Who cares, anyway?"

"Tweek will know I'm hiding something."

Pursing his lips, Kyle teetered on the last stair leading up to the entranceway. "Dude, you talk about him like he's some sort of telepathic alien."

"Jury's still out," he joked back, grinning when Kyle laughed.

Trotting back up the stairs, Kyle leaned past Token to bellow into the house, "Thanks again Mr. and Mrs. Black! Dinner was delicious!"

"Anytime, Kyle," was Mrs. Black's answer as she waved from the top of the stairs.

Pausing, Kyle looked sidelong at Token. "So I'll just be waiting outside my house. Text before you leave, okay?"

Startled slightly by the effortless familiarity Kyle already had with him, Token nodded. Then Kyle held out his hand expectantly and Token returned the fist-pump, rolling his eyes. "Is this our flock's secret handshake?"

"No, our secret handshake should probably be gayer," Kyle answered cheekily, hopping down the stairs two by two until he was jogging down the long driveway. "See you tomorrow, Token!" he called over his shoulder.

Token held up his hand for a moment before Kyle turned down the block. Standing in his doorway, he looked at his phone, Kyle's name showing in his contact list. Thoughtfully, Token tucked it back into his pocket, looking along the street after the redhead, who'd since disappeared around the curve of the street.

Once he'd overheard Bebe complaining about the Jew. 'He runs so hot and cold,' she'd said. 'One second he's sure he won't forgive you for the world and the next moment you're best friends.' Token didn't realize his was smiling until his fingers brushed over his lips in thought. Each of his friends was so monotonous. Even Tweek, though he'd plateaued at paranoia. Craig and Clyde prided themselves on their excessive normalness. And other kids never really acted out around Token, and he was pretty sure it was due to the subconscious instinct to walk on eggshells around him because of his skin color.

Kyle was something unexpected, and as Token reflected back on the day - scratch that - his entire _week_; he realized that Kyle had been the most exciting thing about it.

...

TBC

...

A/N: This will only be around 4 chapters. I'm having a lot of fun playing around with the characters in this one; it's mainly a personal venture. I hope you can enjoy the journey with me. : )

-Villain


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: I am falling more and more in love with this pairing. They're so much fun.

...

**Chapter 2**

Kyle's expression was apologetic as he met Token that morning not only with Ike tagging along but also with Sheila Broflovski in tow. She'd insisted on properly meeting Token before he took her two precious boys into an automobile (as she'd put it; Kyle hadn't heard anyone use the word "automobile" since _ever_).

"That's a very nice car you have, Token," she exclaimed as he pulled up smoothly in his BMW. Kyle's face was twisted in to a hilarious scowl directed entirely at his mother.

"Shotgun," Ike yelled immediately, springing for the front door only to be tripped by Kyle whose big brother reflexes far outmatched him.

"Not likely," Kyle sneered, stepping over his brother to pull open the passenger side and slide in with an embarrassed glance at Token. "Sorry, sorry, sorry," he mumbled.

"Chill, it's fine," Token started, but then realized that Sheila Broflovski had circled around to his side of the car and was almost but not quite politely asking for his driver's license.

After the Inquisition had finished Token was shaken up enough to double check that they were all belted in and to scan his blind spots no less than six times. Kyle laid a sympathetic hand on his shoulder.

"The paranoia will wear off in time," he promised.

Ike went bounding off to his friends when they pulled into the front parking lot, practically flailing in excitement as he pointed back at the car and started bragging about his ride to school. Kyle snorted. "Looks like you have a new fan."

"At least my car does," Token agreed, locking the doors and pulling on his satchel. "You ready?"

"I can never be ready for Cartman," he said sourly, falling into step beside Token as they made their way up to the front doors. Their appearance sparked whispers and Kyle saw Butters go streaking back into the hall. Not one minute later, like some summoned demon, Cartman materialized to block their path. He looked decidedly unhappy, his sharp brown eyes darting between them.

"What the hell is this, Jew?" he demanded, jabbing an accusing finger at the redhead. Kyle glared back at him, but Cartman was too incensed to enjoy it. "You two are enemies!"

Token laughed easily, slinging an arm around Kyle's shoulders. It took the redhead off guard for a split second and Token felt him stiffen, but after he squeezed Kyle's arm meaningfully the other boy smoothed it over with a convincing grin. And with that, they strolled into school with Cartman left sputtering behind them.

It took until third period when Kyle sat next to Token in class for Craig and Stan to take notice. Stan realized the only open seat left was next to an obviously grumpy Craig, the other boy glaring daggers at him accusingly. Sliding awkwardly into the seat, eyes boring into the back of his super best friend's head, Stan studiously ignored the finger Craig was currently flipping him. What he couldn't ignore was the hastily scrawled note Craig was shoving at him as the teacher started the lesson. Shooting the other boy a quick glare, he read: _Y is K sitting w/ T? _

Shrugging, he wrote back, _Idk. _

This apparently didn't sit well with Craig, who scribbled some more and sent back: _Well, it's not ok._

Sighing, Stan took out his phone and without bothering to look down, texted Kyle.

Feeling his phone vibrate in his pocket, Kyle looked down to read a message from Stan.

_Y r u sitting w Token?_

Frowning, he quickly texted back, _Why not?_

To which Stan replied, _U usually sit w/ me._

Craning around in his seat, pretending unconvincingly to stretch, Kyle saw Stan and Craig sitting together. Twin heads of black hair were uncovered for class, one pair of eyes navy blue and the other cobalt. Honestly, unless they were arguing Craig and Stan were never within ten feet of each other. Taking a couple of seconds to pop his back, Kyle amused himself by drawing comparisons between the two of them. Craig was slightly taller, lankier than Stan. His super best friend had a much more angular face. Craig's nose was slightly longer, but Stan had longer lashes. Craig had obscenely nice eyebrows, whereas Stan's were a bit thicker, one cut through with a scar from childhood. Stan's mouth had a tilt to it, so even when his face was blank there was the barest hint of a smile always present. Craig's lips were perpetually frowning.

He jumped in his seat when Token elbowed him in the side and whispered, "Two seconds away from creeper level." When Kyle blushed Token rolled his eyes, unable to stop a smile. Well aware of what his classmate had been staring at, Token promised himself he'd take the chance to look at Stan and Craig side by side. Both boys were attractive. He'd definitely sneak a peek later when it wouldn't be so conspicuous. Besides, looking at Kyle was enough. The boy was taking out his glasses for class, sliding them onto his nose. They were stark black on his face, making his red hair seem even redder and the green of his eyes more intense.

Aligning his things neatly on his desk, Kyle looked up to see Token watching him. Sticking his tongue out teasingly, he blushed slightly while re-aligning the pencils next to his pens. "So I'm a little OCD," he conceded grudgingly, slicing another coy look at the other boy. Token laughed silently, his smile lighting up his brown eyes attractively. Kyle's bottom lip found its way between his teeth, and he was lost a little on that smile. Token, where had he come from? Kyle was still biting his lip when an eraser nailed him right in the back of the head. Whirling around in his seat, he saw both Stan and Craig glowering at him like he'd kicked their metaphorical puppy. The puppy being himself and Token, he presumed. Brows furrowing, he gave Stan _the look_, usually reserved for Cartman. Immediately Stan looked sheepish, and Kyle almost laughed when Craig mouthed "Pussy!" to Stan before punching him in the shoulder.

At this point Token had turned around, too.

"Boys," the teacher snapped. "Either you quit this increasingly awkward display that several of your classmates are already filming - those phones are mine unless they disappear _now_ - or you can leave class and get docked attendance points."

Kyle would rather _die_. He had excellent attendance and there was no way that Stan and Craig's possessive hissy fit was going to rob him of his Best Attendance of the Year Award. With another death glare that sent Stan curling down into his seat, Kyle focused his gaze ahead stiffly. When his phone buzzed a muscle in his jaw clenched, but he took it out anyway, glancing down once the teacher turned her back to write on the board. His brow smoothed over as he realized it was from Token.

_How many points do I get if I knew you were just thinking about the Best Attendance award?_

Butterflies flitted about in his stomach and Kyle stifled a huge grin. Okay, so maybe he was biggest geek in the entire world, but no one else had ever even acknowledged the Best Attendance award. Without looking, he texted back, _Two points away from creeper level._

_Great minds think alike_, was Token's cheeky counter.

Now he was openly grinning, head bent as he read the text over again. Glancing to the side, he saw Token dutifully taking notes from the board. Kyle snorted and wrote back, _Great minds think for themselves_.

_And what does your great mind think about partnering up for the project?_

Frowning, Kyle looked up at the board and quickly read the scrawled words there. A history project, blah blah blah, 'pick your partner'. Turning to see Token raise his eyebrows at him questioningly, Kyle smirked and texted, _Is it part of flocking together?_

And Token's quick reply, _Mandatory._

Chuckling, Kyle met Token's eyes and nodded almost shyly. He'd never partnered with anyone who wouldn't end up leaving him with all the work, or who didn't drive him nuts with their laziness and apathy. As the paper went around assigning pairs and the classroom broke into bustling activity as students found their partners, Kyle wrote his name down next to Token. Then he passed the paper behind without even looking, too busy watching as Token continued to write down the rest of the words from the board, his penmanship graceful and neat.

This time it was a crumpled ball of paper that got him in the back of the head and Kyle had half a mind to throw it back as he saw Stan holding up the paper and jabbing his finger at Kyle's name next to Token's. Being super best friends, words weren't always necessary; Kyle glared at Stan with an obviously irritated look, 'So?'

Pouting, Stan's eyes grew large and round. He was resorting to puppy eyes and his message was clear, 'Why aren't we going to partner up?'

Rolling his eyes, Kyle smirked cruelly and raised his eyebrows meaningfully at Craig. 'Why not team up with Craig?'

'No!'

'Grow up, Stan.'

'N-no!'

"So like," Token interrupted, chin resting on his palm as students moved to sit with their partners and begin discussing project topics, "Do you have to be looking at each other to communicate, or is your telepathy advanced enough to not require eye contact?"

Breaking his gaze with Stan, Kyle sighed. "When you know someone as well as Stan and I know each other..." he trailed off, rubbing his eyes with the palms of his hands. "Look, let's forget about him. And Craig. This is valuable flocking time, right?"

"That's right," Token agreed in mock seriousness, "You need to earn your feathers."

"When did you become the authority of my feathers," Kyle teased, blushing madly when Token gave him a mildly surprised look. They both erupted into nervous laughter until the teacher sent them the evil eye and they got to work.

By the end of class Token and Kyle had settled on a research project about the psychology of women authors in Victorian England and the effect of gender oppression on the romantic representation in their works. Kyle was pretty sure he was near giddy with excitement. Token hadn't even batted an eye when he wanted to focus on gender oppression, and then like some academic angel Token went one step further and added female authors of Victorian England without Kyle even twisting his arm. Any time he'd mentioned anything about gender to Stan (his usual partner) he would just go on about 'chick stuff' and then lure Kyle off the topic with Mass Effect or Red Bull. But Token even wanted to _talk_ about it. And if Kyle wasn't hallucinating (and he was growing worried he might be as this was all too good to be true) Token was as enthusiastic as he was about the topic.

"I mean," Token was saying, "You can feel the mental release of the shackles in an act of rebellion when they wrote, like they were shedding their skin. Jane Austen's romance is still so idyllic today because-" He stopped. "Kyle, are you okay? Kyle?" Concerned, he felt the other boy's forehead. When he took his hand away Kyle was still staring at him like he was the last of an endangered species.

"I am _so_ happy we're in the same flock," he breathed like a confession. Token looked startled at the admission, but Kyle didn't care. They were discussing _gender_ and _writers_ and _Victorian England_ and... and other smart things that no one else - _no one_ else had ever discussed with him before. Ike was he closest thing to a worthy conversationalist, but his conservative politics usually had him in a headlock as Kyle sought to shake the Republican out of him.

"You're so weird," Token accused laughingly, holding his sides. But there was no denying the flush of warmth that spread throughout his body at Kyle's words.

Craig and Stan stood close together at the far end of the hall; Stan chewing on his thumbnail while Craig slumped against the wall looking like some B-list male model. Both sets of blue eyes were fixed on their friends. Other students milled around the hall between classes, Kenny chatting with Bebe and Wendy. Clyde was helping Tweek put things back into his bag after they spilled.

"Not okay," Craig eventually muttered, looking down at his phone.

"I know," Stan mumbled glumly.

...

Kyle was staring at his bookshelf after re-alphabetizing it. Maybe he shouldn't flaunt his anal-retentiveness so obviously. Fussing over the titles, he eventually color-coded it then arranged it by size then he finally mixed and matched to a more "casual" appearance. Who was he kidding, it looked totally contrived.

"I'm hopeless," he finally admitted, nearly jumping out of his skin when Ike popped his head in.

"Token's here! With his car!"

Kyle nervously pulled his hat on as the pitter-patter of Ike's feet tumbled down the stairs and there was a light crash as the young boy ran out the door. Glancing out the window, Kyle saw his idiot brother practically dry-humping the BMW. Token was grinning, laughing, pointing at parts of the car. Ike was practically drooling by the time Token made it inside the house, politely greeting Sheila and presenting her with a casserole courtesy of his mother. Frantically pulling on a black sweater and nearly toppling over as he fought it down over his hat (while managing to knock off his glasses in the process), Kyle stumbled to his door and started down the stairs, coming to a halt as he saw Token already halfway up.

For an awkward moment they just looked at each other. Token's eyes moved over the redhead. Ushanka crooked, hair mussed, eyes like a deer caught in headlights framed by glasses askew off of one ear. And his sweater wasn't all the way on; the hem was rolled up to reveal his tight stomach. Swallowing down a suddenly dry throat, Token motioned at Kyle's state with a lopsided smile, "Did I interrupt something?"

Looking down at himself, Kyle squeaked in embarrassment, jerking his sweater down. "Ugh, um, come up to my room. We can study there." Trotting up a few steps, he directed over his shoulder, "I have a mini fridge up here with drinks and snacks. You down for diet root beer or diet Pepsi?"

"Root beer's fine," he said, dropping his bag by the door and shrugging off his coat. He caught the can Kyle tossed to him, sitting on the end of the bed. The room itself was immaculately clean, though the desk was messy. Albert Einstein stared down at him from the wall, flanked by other icons of history. Kyle was chattering on about the project already, lugging a pile of notes and books in his arms. He puffed a curl out of his eyes, the books bouncing on the bed next to Token when Kyle dropped them. Then the redhead followed suit; plopping down beside Token, copper curls spiraling out from under his hat like springs.

"Well, you ready to start collecting quotes?"

"You sound way too excited about that," Token teased, selecting a book and flipping through it. "Sweet, feminist theory."

Kyle looked uncomfortable. "Are you...? I mean-"

At the expression on Kyle's face Token turned fully towards him and held up his hands. "No, I'm not being mocking. I think it's actually cool. Kyle," he said bashfully, "Seriously, I'm as nerdy as you are."

Sighing and running his fingers through the hair under his hat, Kyle gave Token a timid smile. "Sorry, man. It's just... It's like you're..."

"Too good to be true?" Token ventured hopefully, wearing a shy grin.

He was twisting the hem of his sweater in his hands, suddenly nervous. Worrying his lip with straight white teeth, Kyle glanced at Token's sincere face before uttering a self-deprecating laugh. Opening his mouth to answer-

"KYLE, Stan and the Tucker boy are here!" his mother bellowed like a foghorn personified, shattering whatever spell had begun to weave itself.

"It's Craig," he corrected in monotone, giving Sheila Broflovski the finger when she turned her back dismissively. Ike was talking Stan's ear off about the BMW - Token's car - while he and Craig waited for the guilty parties to appear.

A minute later a waspish Kyle and a subdued looking Token came down the stairs. Stan stood up straighter and Craig hunched his shoulders.

"That's a new sweater," Stan remarked in a clipped tone. Craig rolled his eyes but Stan chose to ignore that.

"Craig, what are you doing here, man?" Token asked.

"We're here to study," Craig replied coolly. "Same as you, right?"

"You both have your own houses, I'm pretty sure," Kyle snapped, green eyes burning into Stan.

"I thought we'd all band together," Stan drawled, glancing at Craig. "Kenny and Bebe are on their way, too."

"And Clyde and Tweek," Craig added.

"Who said that could happen?"

Craig shrugged. "We always go over to Token's house to study, and Marsh said it's the same at your house, Broflovski. So we're convening here tonight."

"It's tradition," Stan piped up, answering his phone when Kenny's name flashed on the screen. "Kenny, where are you?"

With Bebe's leg draped over his shoulder, Kenny wiped his mouth and muttered, "Listen Stan, I know I was supposed to help you in your paranoid scheme to break up Token and Kyle's little study date, but I'm busy." Bebe's tongue found its way into his ear and Kenny exhaled shakily, "Gotta go. Good luck sabotaging Kyle's social life."

"Deserter!" he proclaimed accusingly into the phone, stiffening when he realized Token, Kyle, and Craig were all staring at him. "Uh, Kenny can't make it."

"Whatever," Craig said, pushing his way past Kyle and Token to get up the stairs. "It doesn't matter anyway." Token trailed after him, leaving Kyle and Stan alone.

He prowled down the last few steps, stalking up to Stan like some jungle cat. "What. Are. You. Doing?"

"Study. Party," Stan answered with equal ire.

Getting up in Stan's face, their noses brushing, Kyle forced through gritted teeth, "That is a _lie_, Stan. You're here because you're _jealous_."

His lips thinned into a disturbingly flat line. Stan sniffed prudishly, but remained silent.

"You act like they're the Montagues and we're the Capulets, Stan," he sighed exasperatedly, pinching the bridge of his nose, his other hand crooked on his hip. "That's so stupid. Do you realize how stupid that is?"

"But... we've been enemies forever!"

"Correction," he said sharply, "You and Craig have been enemies forever. The rest of us don't give a shit."

Upstairs Token was glaring at Craig as his friend opened a can of diet Pepsi, cursing when foam overflowed down his arm.

"Craig," Token deadpanned, "for someone who failed English, you sure as hell live your life like a Shakespearian play."

Glaring bemusedly at the other boy, Craig slurped at his drink. "We're not friends with them. We've been fighting for years. Now you're over at his _house_. Just yesterday he said you cheated to win the scholarship."

"We worked it out," Token grumbled mutinously. "And he's cool, Craig."

Snorting, Craig picked up one of the textbooks on the bed and rolled his eyes, "What the fuck is this shit? I always knew Broflovski was a pussy, but don't tell me he's brainwashing you with chick lib shit, too."

Snatching the book on feminism out of his hand Token held it protectively against his chest. "You don't know shit, Craig. You've never even given him a chance. Just because you and Stan have some sort of bro-war going on doesn't mean the rest of us have to get sucked into it, too."

"There was never any _sucking_, Token," Craig stressed. "And it should stay that way." His expression was impassive as he looked at his friend.

Token went silent, knuckles pale as he gripped the textbook tightly.

Kyle and Stan were gesticulating wildly, yelling in completely ridiculous stage whispers to avoid any mediation from Sheila, when Token and Craig came back down the stairs. Craig walked straight out of the house, but Token lingered, caught by Kyle's dumbfounded look.

"Token?"

"Sorry, Kyle," he muttered.

"What?" he trotted after Token's retreating form. "Token?"

"Look," he whispered, "I just... I want to switch partners for the project." His gaze dropped away from Kyle's face, unable to meet his eyes. He fidgeted with the strap on his bag. "I'll stick with Craig, and you can be with Stan." Offering the redhead a sad smile, he shrugged halfheartedly, "It'll work better that way. Um, I'll see you around school." Glancing over Kyle's shoulder at Stan, he leaned in and breathed against Kyle's ear, "Please keep my secret, okay?" And with that, he left.

Kyle just stood there in Token's wake, mouth open as if he wanted to call after him. Brows furrowed in confusion and hurt, Kyle pressed his hand against the closed front door. His stomach ached, like someone had punched him.

Wandering over to his friend, Stan awkwardly hugged Kyle from behind. He held his tongue, knowing better than to say anything to the redhead. _Dude, it's to protect you_, he wanted so badly to say. Instead he buried his face in the back of Kyle's head, hugging him tighter.

...

"It was the right thing to do," Craig insisted later at Clyde's house. The four of them - himself, Token, Clyde and Tweek - were all sitting in front of Clyde's big screen playing Mario Cart.

"Yeah, he c-could've _outed_ you," Tweek groaned as if it was the worse thing that could possibly happen. He took a shaky sip of his coffee, blinking one eye at a time.

Clyde nodded, leaning with his controller as he rounded a bend on the racetrack. Princess Peach passed Bowzer and he hooted in victory, pumping his fist. "Take that, bitch," he threw over his shoulder at Craig, who immediately kicked the back of his head.

Token was slumped over the couch pillows, looking dejected.

"He's a risk," Craig continued. "There's no reason he wouldn't blab about you to Stan. Then before you know it it's all around the school that you're gay. You should just stick with your friends."

"Yeah, dude," Clyde agreed. "I mean, I know we all get urges, but I _did_ get you those gay things for your birthday. There was gay sex stuff in them."

Tweek twitched and Token rubbed his eyes. "It's Japanese," he said. "Their dicks are just glowing cones of light."

Pausing the game, Clyde whirled. "Really?"

Tweek almost spilled his coffee. "Aliens!"

Patting the blond boy comfortingly on the shoulder, Craig explained, "It's Japanese porn laws. They can't show stuff."

"Oh," said Clyde, looking sorrowfully at Token, "Sorry, man."

"I'm fine, dude," Token assured him, cracking a smile. "I'll survive. I _do_ have internet."

"Vetoing this conversation now," Craig interrupted, restarting the game.

Clyde yelped as Bowzer rammed into Princess Peach, sending her skidding away. "You dick!" Reaching behind him, he swatted at Craig's controller, earning another kick in the back of the head.

While the two boys continued to undermine each other's game play, Token noticed Tweek was looking at him like he had something to say. Sympathizing with the boy's crippling social ineptitude, Token gave him a comforting smile, "Go ahead, Tweek."

Sidling up to Token on the couch, coffee thermos tucked neatly under his arm like an infant, Tweek said haltingly, "You r-really liked him."

Scratching the back of his head, Token admitted, "I could talk to him about stuff I just can't talk about with you guys - no offense!" he added quickly as Tweek's expression wobbled.

"Cuz it's the gay stuff?" Tweek whispered conspiratorially.

Swallowing a bark of laughter, Token grinned at his friend. "In part. But there's other stuff. Nerd stuff."

"Oh," Tweek nodded sagely. "I understand."

Doubting very much that he did, Token smiled gratefully. His smile didn't reach his eyes. For the rest of the night, even after the other three had fallen asleep, Token lay awake staring up at the ceiling, his gut twisting with regret.

...

Kenny snuck up behind Kyle and goosed him just as the redhead was shoving precariously balanced books into his locker. Years of practice saved his ribs from a pointy elbow as Kyle reacted immediately. But unlike any other time, the redhead didn't bother to follow through with amusing lectures, or even try to grab Kenny's sweatshirt ties to trap him inside his hood. Slightly put-out, Kenny pranced back up to his friend, leaning against the locker next door. "Kyle?" Eyes sliding over to see the boy's locker stuffed with books on gender and women writers, his brow furrowed and a sinking feeling settled in the pit of his stomach. "Such a work-aholic, Kyle. You don't have to cart your homework around everywhere." He waited for Kyle to reply, suspicions confirmed when the redhead slammed the locker shut, shouldering his bag.

"I'm going to return them to the library after class."

Jogging after Kyle as he strode off in a purposeful manner characteristic of such a punctual person, Kenny cursed Stan and his penchant for mothering their friend. "Did you and Token change your mind about your project?"

"Token did," he replied coldly, his pace slowing down noticeably. He'd forgotten that Token was in his next class. Grimacing, he turned to Kenny. "What do you have this period?"

"Photography, why?" he answered cautiously.

Kyle averted his eyes. "Wanna go shoot the shit down by Stark's?"

Taken completely off-guard, Kenny stood slack-jawed before he lamely protested, "B-but, what about your attendance record?" This was serious. Godammit, Stan!

"No big deal," he muttered, already starting off in the direction of the school's back gate.

Glancing around, Kenny darted after him, his bag swinging loosely off his shoulder. "Kyle, man, this isn't like you."

"Kenny," he said, eyes pleading.

Managing a goofy smile, Kenny shrugged. "You know I can't resist it when you beg me, Kyle."

He looked relieved. "Thanks, pervert."

They snuck out the gate, unaware of brown eyes watching them from across the courtyard.

"Interesting," mused Cartman. Snapping a couple of pictures with his iPhone of their retreating backs, he ducked back into class. But not before he saw Stan come out of a classroom, phone in hand, looking worried. "_Very_ interesting," he chuckled evilly.

...

A/N: This story is so gooey, sweet, and _regular_. I like the change of pace. There's some really fun stuff in store!

-Villain


	3. Chapter 3

A/N: I had waaaay too much fun writing this. My horrible humor should be illegal.

...

**Chapter 3**

The sky was devastatingly beautiful, stretching over the horizon in a glowing mesh of salmon pink and silvery blues. Stark navy clouds cut the pastels; strange, elongated fish swimming through the meandering light. Their shadows were cast in crystal across the glassy surface of Stark's Pond. It was difficult not to become mesmerized by the landscape, its beauty serene.

"I'm usually too lazy to really pay attention to climate change," mused Kenny, taking a swig of cheap beer (nicked from a legal friend) before passing it to Kyle. "But stuff like this makes me wanna march on the Capitol for the environment."

"I don't think anyone our age even looks at the sky anymore." Kyle's tone was wistful, pink lips hugging the mouth the bottle as he drank down the bitter liquid. "Cloud-gazing is an alien concept at this point."

"Do you know what I heard? Back a while there was a brown out or something in Los Angeles," Kenny said, rolling onto his side with his head crooked up on his hand. "All the lights went out. Get this, when the electricity came back the police got a flood of calls from people freaking out."

Slanting his gaze over, Kyle's brows furrows. "Why?"

"They reported UFOs in the sky."

"What?"

He laughed. "They were the _stars_. It had been so long - with all the smog and the lights - since anyone in the city had seen the fucking _stars_. How fucked up is that?"

Kyle's face was pinched disapprovingly. He shifted as a rock dug into his back. "That's awful."

"Could you even imagine," Kenny sighed, craning his head up towards the faintest shadow of stars already glittering. "Not seeing the stars?"

For some reason the thought made him incredibly sad. "I don't want to imagine it," he huffed, passing back the beer.

Kenny nudged Kyle's shoulder apologetically. "Sorry for being a downer."

"No," he said quickly, "It's good to think about sometimes. I'm just... I just want good thoughts right now." Flopping back on the ground, he slipped off his hat and stuffed it under his head as a pillow. Then a halo of blond blocked his vision for a second before Kenny nestled down next to him, butting him over. Sharing the ushanka, Kyle wiggled to get more comfortable. The faint scent of musk and the natural earthiness of Kenny brushed warmly against his face.

Then Kenny crossed his leg over Kyle before dancing it back, chanting, "1-2-3-4, I declare a leg-war!" He hooked Kyle's right leg playfully.

What followed was a preposterous display. Kyle clasped Kenny's hands tightly to keep equal balance as they battled to pin the other's leg. Thanks to his bony fingers, Kyle was an expert thumb-war player, but in this case Kenny's legs were longer. As the blond pinned his leg, laughing minty breath into his face, Kyle thumped onto his back, exhaling, "Cheater."

"Sore loser," he accused, jabbing his finger into Kyle's chest to emphasize each syllable.

"You got lucky."

"With my genetics, I know."

"Smart-ass," Kyle cursed, instantly licking his finger and seeking to shove it into Kenny's ear.

"Noooo," Kenny wailed helplessly, grabbing Kyle's wrists and holding the redhead off him. "I swear to god, Kyle, if you give me a Wet Willy I will lick your face."

"They say the ear is an erogenous zone," Kyle panted, twisting to break Kenny's hold before diving onto the other boy, managing to slip his finger into the blonde's ear.

"ACK," Kenny shrieked, scrambling back like a crab, clutching the side of his head. "You dick!"

"What are you talking about," Kyle asked innocently, cocking his head cutely to the side, "That's the prize for the winner of the leg-war."

"Don't try and be cute, you Jewish Jezebel."

"Pretty sure I'm not a Jezebel," Kyle chuckled, settling back down in the grass. Eventually Kenny crawled back over, warily lying down next to him. "Don't you always call me a prude? Totally opposite."

"Well, you have it in you," Kenny teased, pinching Kyle's nose.

"Highly doubtful," he replied nasally, attempting to dislodge Kenny from his face.

"I don' know, Stan mentioned a brand new sweater."

"Oh, Jesus," he groaned. "I swear to god my mom and Stan are going to start playing Bridge together and knitting shit."

Grinning toothily, Kenny traced the clouds with his fingers. "You know it's just because you're like the most precious thing in the world to him. You're his _super best friend_," he mocked in a simpering voice. He smiled when Kyle snorted.

"If Stan had his way he'd shut me up in a tower like Rapunzel or something."

Kenny leapt up, exclaiming dramatically, "Rapunstein, Rapunstein, let down your jewfro!" Then he paused while Kyle convulsed with laughter. "I feel like if your jewfro got too big it would float like a hot air balloon."

"Oh my _god,_" Kyle gasped, wheezing with laughter.

"And we could all hitch rides in your basket," Kenny leered, plopping down to straddle Kyle's thighs. The redhead's face was crimson and he was laughing so hard that he'd gone silent, nothing but a wheezy gasping mess. Unable to remain straight-faced, Kenny joined his friend. Ultimately they fed off each other's laugher until both their faces were streaming tears of mirth.

"Okay, okay, _stop_," Kyle begged, rolling onto his stomach and burying his face in the grass. "Can't... breathe!"

"I tend to leave people breathless when they're around me too long," Kenny agreed understandingly, grunting when Kyle abruptly elbowed him in the side, "Oof!"

"Speaking of hot air balloons, as in your _head_," he teased, wriggling out from underneath Kenny's legs. "Shit, dude, the sun's set."

"Time flies when you're hanging out with Kenny McCormick."

"Whatever." Standing up and stretching, Kyle glanced back at the blond. "Since it's so late, you wanna come to my place for dinner? My mom would kill me if I let you walk home alone." For a moment Kenny looked like he was about to say something, but then just shrugged, swinging to scoop up the empty beer bottle.

Strolling back up the path to the road they began the walk home, Kenny whistling some unnamed tune in the twilight. After a little while Kyle joined in and they continued that way, horribly out of tune, until they dissolved into more laughter.

...

His phone buzzed angrily on top of his desk, sliding over the wood sideways like an angry beetle. Catching it right before it went scaling over the edge into his wastebasket, Stan glimpsed the name on the screen and glowered before clapping it to his ear. "Good job answering your phone earlier, asshole."

"You know what's awesome, Stanley?" Kenny asked flippantly, "The Kugel Kyle's mom makes. I still don't really know what it is, but damn it's tasty."

Clenching his teeth, Stan demanded, "Can you tell me why you're over at Kyle's house and why you both weren't answering my calls?"

"You know what's even _more_ awesome?" Kenny cooed patronizingly, ignoring Stan's warning tone, "Being in Kyle's pants."

His ass slipped off the end of his chair and he went crashing to the ground. "What!" he hissed, squashing the phone against the side of his face as if he could project himself through the line, "WHAT?"

"Yeah, Kyle always lends me a pair of his pajama pants," he finished.

Stan slumped back onto the floor, staring up at the bottom of his desk chair. "You are a douchebag."

"And you are a meddlesome old biddy," Kenny shot back, pitching his voice high and wavering like an old woman. "Shame on you, young man!" Cackling quietly, the blond held his phone crooked between his shoulder and ear, using both his hands to work a spare pillow into the freshly laundered pillowcase. Faint sounds from the hall were all he could hear of Ike and Kyle. The brothers were apparently engaging in their nightly ritual of securing the bathroom via Battle Royale. A dull thud, which was probably Ike's head, sounded on the wall quickly followed by a yowl that would wake the dead. Or at least wake Kyle's mom. Sheila Broflovski's thunderous voice boomed up the stairs. Kenny shuffled nearer to the window, speaking softly to Stan, "Seriously though, dude. We didn't, like, talk about it; but he's not okay."

Something nasty coiled in the pit of his stomach. "Define 'not okay'."

"I perved on him and he was so distracted that he didn't punch my lights out."

"Shit," Stan breathed, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Can't you give him the phone? I'll talk to him-"

Smoothing the cotton over the pillow fondly, almost laughing at the faded faces of Terrence and Phillip decorating its surface, Kenny shook his head. "You know Kyle, he needs moping time."

Groaning, Stan balanced his phone on his forehead, curling his arms beneath his head. "I was a dick."

"Yes, yes you were," Kenny confirmed. "I think Kyle really likes Token. They can talk about nerd stuff together."

Closing his eyes, the subtle warmth radiating from his phone was like balm against his skin. "That's just it, Kenny. Kyle needs to be careful about who he... likes."

"Dude, Token's like the most laid-back person ever. If he had a problem with Kyle being a screechy-gay-academically-driven-drama-queen then he probably wouldn't have forgiven him after his little 'hey you're a cheater' episode."

Exhaling slowly, Stan reminded Kenny, "I don't want him to get hurt."

"Look, just because they geek out over feminist theory and math problems doesn't mean Kyle's going to want to get down and do the horizontal tango."

"They were giggling," Stan confessed.

Sounding distinctly put-upon, Kenny soothed, "People do that. And who knows, maybe Kyle can charm Token off the shores of heterosexuality across the river of questioning into homoland. But I really think we're jumping the gun here. Kyle's not the type to go after a straight guy-or anybody, really. I think he was just happy to have found someone he can talk to - not just talk _at_ - about the stuff he likes." Grinning, Kenny whispered as he heard Kyle's voice in the hall grow nearer, "It just means we have to spend less time enduring his rants on philosophy and linear algebra."

Unable to keep the vulnerable tone from his voice, Stan murmured, "What if he-"

"Don't even say it," Kenny cut him off curtly. "He won't forget about us. We're his best friends. Just because he shares interests with someone else doesn't mean he's about to up and leave us. C'mon Stan, don't insult him. Don't insult your bond."

"Yeah."

"Now quit sulking, you're not the one whose blossoming friendship got vetoed," he gently teased. Stan was silent for a few seconds.

Mouth set in thin line all Stan said in reply was, "Got it."

Twelve minutes later Stan was trudging up Craig's block, head titled back to stare up at the night sky. The cold was winding and thick, pulling at the gaps in his clothes, exposing skin and slipping in to leave gentle icy kisses. Puffs of breath misted the air before him as Craig's house took shape in the gloom. One of the streetlights was broken, leaving a definite inky shadow blotching out space between the cheery pools of orange light along the sidewalk.

Three knocks. Four. Stan sighed. His hand was poised at the door when Craig's pale face appeared, his eyes black as he was backlit by the warm glow from inside.

"Marsh," he acknowledged uninterestedly. He and Stan continued to just look at each other until Craig sighed with undisguised irritation and opened the door enough that Stan could slip inside. Turning, he regarded the other boy with disapproval and annoyance while leaning nonchalantly against the door.

Massaging his temples, Stan admitted tightly, "So maybe we jumped to conclusions about Token and Kyle."

"I don't think so," he said in a clipped tone, eyes darting to the kitchen doorway. "You should just stay out of it."

"That's what I'm trying to do," Stan argued, wincing before adding, "Well, I mean, I'm trying to put things back the way they were before we meddled."

" 'Meddled'," Craig mocked. "You sound like you're eighty." Jerking the door open he stood aside. "Go home, Marsh."

"Listen," he protested, "Maybe you can stand by and watch your friend be upset, but I can't. I-I just freaked a little because I made the stupid mistake of thinking Token was anything like you." Flushing a little at that confession, Stan nervously took off his hat and twisted it in his hands. "Can you understand that? And Kyle, he's not me." He raised his eyes to see Craig watching him guardedly. After the silence began to stretch into the awkward realm, Stan groaned. "Dude, come on."

"Just because you came to some pussy epiphany about yourself doesn't mean shit to me or my friends, Marsh. I'll repeat myself; stay out of it. This doesn't concern you."

Angry, Stan's voice flew up an octave, "If it concerns Kyle it concerns me! For whatever reason he and Token were getting along-"

Craig cut him off, getting as close to yelling as he ever did, "That doesn't matter."

"What the actual fuck," Stan seethed. "Token isn't some prisoner of yours, Craig. He can make his own decisions."

"Marsh, I swear to-" Craig stopped talking abruptly, fists raised. Slumping suddenly, he shook his head. "Just leave. Token's got enough stress without this shit. You're just making it worse."

Something in Craig's tone kept him silent and Stan just looked at the other boy, his expression a mottled mix of hurt, anger and exasperation. Finally he turned his back on Craig and walked to the door, footsteps heavy. Without looking back he said, "Well I think Kyle helped alleviate some of that."

Craig refused to turn around as he heard someone enter the living room from the kitchen after Stan left. He just sighed, letting his head relax back. After nearly a lifetime as friends, he didn't need to look back to see the expression on Token's face; he could imagine it perfectly. "Shit," he spat, stalking out of the room.

...

It was hours before most of his classmates would slink up the school steps, yawning or searching for misplaced homework. Soon the halls would be bustling with activity, friends reuniting after a night spent recapping the day on Facebook, or IMing each other under the guise of schoolwork to keep their parents off their backs. For now the halls were empty save for a few of the exchange students who hadn't yet adapted to the routine of relaxed punctuality. Without the hordes of regular students crowding the checkered floors, Cartman could stare meditatively at Kyle's locker in relative peace. Swinging from one hand was a stretched coat hanger with hook still intact, and in his mouth was a wad of chewing gum being pummeled by his weathered molars.

He had some time before teachers would start wandering the halls to collect their morning coffee from the staff room. It was just his luck that the Jew had been assigned a locker in a random cubbyhole of the hall. Hosting an isolated cul-de-sac of lockers, this portion of the hall was relatively secluded. Lifting the coat hanger, he placed his gum along the hook, coating it like a sugary-smelling paint. Glancing out into the main hallway, he was pleased to see that there were no witnesses. Working quickly, he weaseled the hanger coated in gum into the metal gills lining the upper quarter of the locker door, twisting the metal until he felt it descend easily. Pushing downward, Cartman pressed an ear to the door, listening raptly to the varied sounds as his strange version of fishing brushed against the insides of Kyle's locker. He heard papers, bumped into books, even brushed cloth from Kyle's gym bag. Eyes narrowed, he focused. The slip of metal against a book, the gum scuffing along the cardboard cover. Then he heard it; the metal hook caught on papers sticking out of the textbook. Working carefully, Cartman nudged them over, grinning when they slipped free enough that the gum proved a sufficient adhesive to lift a piece. Pinning the paper to the door with the hook, Cartman twisted it to catch the paper like a loosely draped cloth over the metal, melding it to the chewing gum. He tested the strength with a shake before reeling it back up and gingerly drawing it out of the locker.

Sticky with gum, the writing on the paper was still easily legible. Kyle's slanting handwriting was a mess of hastily written notes. Cartman noticed that the lines were slightly messier than usual - resolutely pretending not to realize how utterly obsessive that made him. But the edging thought was banished once his eyes alighted on a margin-note, _run V writers by T. Fem aspect?_

No problem that most of the scrawl made no sense. The only thing that Cartman was concerned with was the letter T, which was written with just a touch more care than the other letters. T...

Token.

His face erupted in a positively violent scowl, turning the page over to scan the other side. More notes: _Bronte sis, Austen, ask T if he wants to emphasize one or cover multi._ There was even a rough outline drawn under the note, labeled "Gender Oppression and the Psychology of Female Authors in Victorian England as Communicated Through the Written Word". His lips curled disgustedly, and an ugly noise actually wormed its way through clenched teeth when he saw lovingly written, _by Kyle Broflovski and Token Black_.

Rubbing at the traces of gum with his thumb until they rolled off stained black from the friction, Cartman dumped the coat hanger. He glanced one more time at the notepaper before stuffing it in his pocket. Now students were milling around the hall in greater numbers, faces faintly lit with blue light from various phone screens as the morning sun had yet to creep in. The janitor would charge the artificial light up to full wattage once the official opening time for the school passed. It had been some kind of bazaar energy-saving technique that stuck.

But none of that mattered. With the note burning a hole in the pocket of his jeans, Cartman watched with hawk-like eyes as students continued to stream in. When Token trailed through the door after a yawning Craig, laughing with Clyde about something that had Tweek nearly in a fit, Cartman waited until he broke off from the group to follow him. Token's first class was Gym.

The locker rooms rang with the piercing voices of students, the tiled walls amplifying and throwing their words into chiming oblivion. Like a shark driving through a school of fish, Cartman surpassed the noisy chaos of the changing rooms to find Token lost in his shirt as he pulled it his free from his torso. Face reappearing, Cartman caught the instant mistrust in Token's dark eyes.

"Cartman," Token hazarded, looking the other boy up and down. Some of the other guys in the room were glancing over at them, whispering to each other. Cartman hadn't been to gym since 5th grade. No one knew how, but he'd swindled the system and somehow got his P.E. credits waived. Needless to say, their was no reason whatsoever that he should be standing here in the room full of half-naked young men, staring at Token like he was about to challenge him to a duel.

"Funny," Cartman began breezily, checking his fingernails, "How the Jew accused you of cheating and you pussied out. He basically castrated you in front of everyone."

The strong features of Token's face clouded. Brown eyes slid over to see the other boys now crowding closer, their interest obviously piqued. "It was a joke, Cartman. Maybe a bad one, but we all have our days." Arching an eyebrow pointedly, he added smoothly, "Some of us more than others." The words were accompanied by rumbling chuckles from the surrounding crowd. They were giving the two boys a wide birth, but eavesdropping nonetheless.

"You know the Jew's a fag, right?" Cartman asked casually, smirking. "Hanging around a fag can ruin your reputation."

"Maybe for someone who isn't secure in their sexuality," Token returned coolly, pulling on his gym t-shirt. "But it doesn't bug me."

"You sure he doesn't have a crush on you, Black?" Cartman asked, his flippant expression betrayed by the threatening core to his tone.

Now Token had turned all his attention to the other boy. Around them the circle had tightened. "You worried, Fatass?"

Snorting derisively, Cartman waved his hand in the air as if clearing smoke. "Just looking out for you, Token. Bro to bro."

"Well, _bro_," Token snidely responded, crossing his arms, "I'd suggest you try and get a life instead of butting into other peoples'. It's sad."

Anger flashed in light brown eyes. Cartman laughed, but it sounded forced. "Whatever, Token. If you and Kahl want to have little black-ginger buttbabies, who am I to stop you? But don't blame me if it gets around that you're a fag, too." He looked back at the others smugly.

"Oh, I see," Token exclaimed sarcastically, "That's a threat!" He took a definitive step into Cartman's space. "Let me explain this to you, Fatass," he said, voice dripping with sugary disdain, "Don't threaten my friends. Don't threaten me. If you think you can push me around then you are delusional. You see, people actually _like_ me. That's because I'm not some shit-stain of a human being who immaturely seeks out drama to earn himself attention."

Eyes darting around the room, Cartman uttered a bark of strained laughter, "Come on, bro-"

"You're _nothing_. No - if you're anything, you're a _parasite_. Cartman, no one gives a shit about you. We're all laughing at you. All of us. You have, and always will be, a joke to the rest of us." His eyes were acidic, voice still deceivingly soft. The room had gone completely silent. "So why don't you stop trying to stir shit up as another pathetic excuse to be noticed." Abruptly turning from him, Token calmly went back to changing. As if on cue, the rest of the boys in the room melted away. Cartman was left like a deserted island in the middle of the room.

...

At the moment he was puzzling over the disarray of papers and books in his locker, further confused as he found traces of a pinkish substance clinging to the frayed edges of his textbook. "What the fuck?" he muttered, rearranging the contents with a put-upon sigh. Then he heard a gust of angry words behind him, breathed out as if not to be heard and yet audible enough that Kyle felt chills down his spine. Turning, he watched Cartman storm past. Leaning over, supporting himself with one hand on the cold linoleum while the other was filled with papers, Kyle poked his head around the corner, witnessing Cartman walk all the way to the end of the hall and knock insistently on Mr. Mackey's door.

That's odd. Shoving everything back into his locker, he stole down the hallway, ducking awkwardly by Stan and Kenny who thankfully didn't notice him slinking across the floor like some guilty thief. Feet carrying him swiftly as soon as he broke into the wider hall towards Mackey's office, Kyle acknowledged the red flag waving in the back of his mind. An angry Cartman was a bad, _bad_ thing.

...

"You don't fucking humiliate _me_," he seethed, tears stinging at the corners of his eyes as he stalked down the hall. Students cleared out of his way, rage surrounding him like a black cloud. Mr. Mackey's office appeared like salvation and Cartman knocked on the door.

"Eric Cartman," Mr. Mackey greeted, looking baffled. "I'm just finishing my breakfast, but if you need to talk-"

He muscled past the man, waiting until the door was shut behind him.

"Have a seat in this new chair, mkay?" Mr. Mackey directed, going to sit behind his desk. "Comfy, isn't it? You should always test out things before you purchase, mkay?'

"Mr. Mackey," Cartman cut in, the once angry tears now dissolving into theatrical waterworks. "I'm worried about another student. I think... I think Token Black might be considering suicide."

...

Kenny never missed a good ass. And when Kyle was so demonstrably bent over to spy through Mackey's keyhole, there was no way Kenny was going to miss such a golden opportunity to place a well-aimed smack. It gave the most delicious crack, following by Kyle reacting as if he'd been electrocuted, shooting up a good couple of feet.

"_Kenny_," he snarled, rounding on the blond. But Kenny was already sprinting down the hall, hooting with laughter. "You shit!" He froze, fist still poised in the air, as Stan sheepishly shuffled up to him. One hand was in his pocket, the other up under his hat. Lowering his hand, Kyle's eyes dropped, Cartman momentarily forgotten.

"I think Token's pretty cool," Stan admitted. "And you can talk to him about things you... you can't talk to me about." His voice caught slightly on those last words. "So I'm sorry for acting like an old lady."

Slack-jawed, he gaped while his best friend blushed madly, rocking from foot to foot. "Stan," he finally gushed, "You're not an old lady... most of the time. I mean; you have old lady tendencies, but-"

"Can you just forgive me already," Stan blurted. "I was a total asshole, but I'll make it up to you. I'll even hang out with Craig if that's what it takes."

Smiling goofily, Kyle punched Stan in the shoulder. "Stan, you know you're my super-best friend. No one could ever replace you."

"Okay, now that's even a little too gay for _me_," Kenny announced, curling his arms around their shoulders. "Now kiss and make up," he trumpeted, shoving their heads together.

"In your dreams," Kyle squawked.

"Guilty as charged," Kenny leered, earning a noogie from Stan.

The three of them wrestled until Stan had put Kenny in a half nelson, leaving his stomach bare to be tickled mercilessly by a vengeful Kyle. But Kenny wouldn't go down without a fight, failing wildly to keep the redhead at bay. That was how Cartman found them, walking out of Mackey's office with his pockets full of brochures. Kyle caught his eye and he smirked, making his way swiftly down the hall as the Jew looked after him suspiciously, trying to break free from the other two amidst Mr. Mackey's torrent of lecturing "Mkay! Mkay!".

...

It wasn't until sitting at the dinner table that night that Kyle sat jolt upright, eyes wide. Sheila instantly felt his forehead, but Kyle was already stumbling over to his bag to dig out his phone. Ignoring his mother and dissuading her alarm with a mumbled, "Project. Important. Forgot," Kyle brought up the fatass in his phone and sent a quick text, _Wtf w/ Mackey?_ After several minutes with no answer, Kyle went up to his room and called Cartman. Impatiently tapping his foot, he cursed when it went to voicemail, Cartman's recorded whine ringing tinny over the receiver. A feeling of dread had nestled itself cozily in his stomach, a cat using its claws to arrange a bed. Jaw clenched, he grabbed his jacket and made it out the door before his mother could stop him. He needed to get to Cartman and find out what the hell was going on.

Breaking into a run, Kyle made it to the other boy's house in record time, calming his breathing for he knocked on the door. The familiar, "Meeeaaam, get the door!" was preamble to Ms. Cartman's kind face regarding him with surprise.

"Well hello, Kyle," she said, moving aside to allow him in. "Look, Eric, your little friend is here to see you." Daintily padding back to the kitchen, she disappeared through the doorway.

The second she was gone Kyle rocketed up the stairs, Cartman heavy on his heels. He made it to the top of the stairs before a gorilla grip yanked at his ankle, forcing him to face-plant on the carpet. Twisting his body, Kyle kicked at Cartman's face, ripping his other foot free as the boy blocked him with his free hand. Scrambling into the bedroom, Kyle lunged towards Cartman's backpack, hissing when Cartman's hand closed on his leg. No one knew when it happened, but over a summer freshman year Cartman had gotten uncannily strong. His fingers bit painfully into Kyle's muscle, even through the denim.

"What are you hiding, Cartman?" Kyle bit out, struggling to break the restraining hold on his leg. "Why the hell were you in Mackey's office?"

"I was expressing my feelings and emotions in a safe environment, Kahl," Cartman parried, climbing Kyle's body like a ladder, eventually grabbing his shirt collar and yanking him down. The Jew was breathing heavily, eyes afire with green light.

"That's bullshit," he accused angrily, his fingers twining in the cloth of Cartman's shirt. "You're up to something."

His features smoothed over into smug impassivity. "Why, Kahl, I have no idea what you're talking about. Suspicious Jew."

Growling, Kyle shook the other boy the best he could, only wringing an enraging smile from him. "I swear to God, Cartman, if you do something-"

"Like what?" he murmured, leaning in close. He angled his arm up, effectively pinning Kyle by the throat. "What'll you do, fag?"

Nails burning into the flesh of Cartman's arms, Kyle scratched crimson welts, incensed. "I'll stop you, fatass!"

"You can't stop me," he said coldly, roughly shoving Kyle's head into the carpet. "Not even if you tried your hardest, Jew." He could see each individual vein of green in Kyle's vivid eyes. But looking into them only made him think of Token and he bared his teeth.

Sensing danger, Kyle jerked his knee up and got Cartman right in the groin, rolling swiftly away as the heavier boy yowled like a wounded animal. He immediately made for Cartman's bag, but the fatass cried "Meeeeaaam!" and Kyle cursed. Time to make his exit, empty-handed. Shit. Looking at Cartman one last time, he spat, "I know you're up to something, Fatass."

Though his eyes were still streaming tears as he clutched his throbbing groin, Cartman laughed throatily, "You'll find out in the morning. Along with everyone else."

...

...

A/N: Hohohoho, cliffhanger! And btw, the LA thing with the stars is true, it happened in the 90s. So, so sad.

Mmm, short chapters feel gooooooood. And so does a little K2 and Kyman, and even a smattering of Style! Yus!

-Villain


	4. Chapter 4

A/N: Sorry for the delay. Life has just been _really_ mean lately. : /

…

**Chapter 4**

Stomach in knots, Kyle practically ran from the bus. When he'd come home looking roughed up from his struggle with Cartman his mother almost popped an artery and confined him to his room after taking his computer and his phone. Ike was put on sentinel duty and had a grand old time ambushing Kyle while he was doing homework by running in howling into his hands like a siren.

Little prick.

Taking the steps two-by-two, Kyle was breathing hard by the time he reached Kenny and Stan. They wore twin tight-lipped expressions. If it was possible, the knot in his stomach tightened and nausea curled through him. What had he done? _What had that bastard done? _Gritting his teeth, Kyle threw his bag in his locker and went on the hunt for Cartman. As he went past he became aware of whispers filling the halls like hives of bees. Two words stabbed into his consciousness and Kyle's throat clenched.

_Suicide._

_ Gay._

Students practically jumped out of his way as Kyle sprinted down the hall, nearly bellowing Cartman's name. He froze when he saw Token, standing between a concerned looking Mr. Mackey and Principal Victoria. The boy's face was drawn, his eyes staring emptily ahead. Kyle stayed long enough to hear Mr. Mackey say, "… called your parents to inform them of the situation." But he didn't stick around for the rest of it. He needed to find Cartman _now_ before more damage could be done.

He heard him before he saw him. Cartman was standing in front of a rapt audience, waxing poetic about how worried he was, how very _anxious_ he was for Token Black.

"You all saw the Twitter feed," he said, encouraged by the nods from his classmates. "And to express his loneliness on Tumblr, hoping we all wouldn't find out? A shame. A real shame."

Kyle's head was buzzing. "Oh my god," he murmured aloud, blood rushing in his ears.

"You did the right thing," Red assured Cartman. "If you didn't tell Mr. Mackey who knows if Token would even still be alive?"

"I know, I know," Eric sighed heavily. "But I still have this guilt."

"No way, man," Kevin argued. "You saved his life! I mean Token; who knew?"

"It's weird that he's gay though," another student interjected. "He doesn't seem gay."

"Well, they're not all as flamboyant as Kahl," Cartman informed them matter-of-factly.

Craig and Token entered the hall and everyone fell silent. Token looked ill and Craig had an arm clasped protectively around his shoulders.

Spotting them, Eric smirked and then sighing dramatically, he simpered, "I'm just so glad his parents were informed before he could hurt himself!"

Craig looked up. The rage in his eyes was palpable and even Cartman's smug look quivered. Stepping away from Token, Craig pointed at him and opened his mouth to speak.

No one expected the flash of ginger hair to launch at Cartman and tackle him to the ground. Kyle, in a blind rage, felt his fist connect with something soft that made a lovely cracking nose. What followed was an animalistic roar and Cartman came alive underneath him, meaty hand swinging at his face. Dodging neatly, Kyle smashed his palm hard into Cartman's nose. Blood flooded out around his hand, streaming down Cartman's chin to stain his shirt. Kyle drew back his fist to strike when a pair of hands closed on him and tore him off the other boy. His head snapped to the side when Token's voice broke through the anger.

"Stop, Kyle," Token demanded, dragging him away. "Are you insane?"

"Let me go," he hissed, trying to break Token's hold. "I'm not done with him yet!"

"Kyle," Token yelled. Green eyes widened. "Please," he added quietly.

"Okay," Kyle said, seeming to come out of a daze. He looked back at a stunned Craig staring at a flailing, screaming Cartman. "Shit. We, uh."

"Yeah," Token agreed with a tight smile, "Let's get out of here. Now."

It was when they were far away from school grounds when Kyle realized Token was crying. Face crumbling helplessly, he tore off his hat and pressed it under Token's eyes, wiping clumsily at the tears. "Stop, Token. Please." There was still blood on his hands and he withdrew guiltily. "Um, I should clean this off."

"I can't believe you," Token exclaimed through his tears, staring down unbelievingly at Kyle's hands. "Why did you do that?"

"Because he's an evil asshole," Kyle gushed, kneeling down to rub his hands in the snow, leaving pinks streaks as the wet cold pulled the blood from his skin. "And… Token. He did this because of me. He h-hurt y-" Kyle faltered and rubbed his hands furiously against the snow.

Sitting down next to the redhead Token held the ushanka tightly in his hands, twisting the material slightly. His eyes were caught up in Kyle's curls as he explained distantly, "No, he did it because I called him out in front of everyone. Revenge, I guess." Pressing the hat to his face as if to shut the world away for even a fleeting second, Token mumbled. "He made a Twitter account and a Tumblr with a picture of me and wrote all of this stuff. God. Mr. Mackey has screenshots of it all." Breath staggering, he clutched at the hat, "He told my parents, Kyle. They know. I-I can't go home. I can't deal with this."

Grabbing Token's hands, Kyle held them against his chest. Tears were brimming in his eyes, conjured by outrage at the injustice. "I'll go with you. I had to do the same thing, so I can go with you." Looking down at his reddened hands, Kyle sniffled before pulling open his coat and holding their hands inside of the warmth. Token moved closer automatically, their legs fitting together like puzzle pieces. Both boys stared down at the pink snow, Kyle's ushanka lying across Token's lap.

…

Trying to look as inconspicuous as possible, Kyle lurked around the hedges at the end of Token's driveway. If he was scared of anything it was that crazy little neighbor girl who'd brandished the frying pan at him before. Token wasn't here to save his ass if she decided to play Guard Dog and try to take him down. Chuckling a little at the thought, he blew into his hands. Nervously looking at his phone, he counted the minutes. Token had been inside the house for fifteen. He said he'd send a text when it was okay for Kyle to leave. In the meantime, Kyle was freezing his ass off outside, dreaming up various ways to gut and skin Cartman.

His phone jangled and he looked down to read what must be the fiftieth text from Stan. Rolling his eyes, he ignored it. Here he'd just told Stan that he wasn't like an old lady – definitely jumped the gun on that one. He should probably just buy Stan the bed pan and knitting needles so that they could get on with their lives. Laughing at his own joke, Kyle looked up at the sky blanketing the earth in velvety blue. Dusky purple lined the horizon as mountains rose in impending shadows, jagged teeth of some great monster.

First he heard the crash, then yelling. Whirling around Kyle ducked behind the hedge as Token came storming out of the house with a backpack in tow, but not much else. His eyes looked red from crying and Kyle could see his parents at the door, his father a silent shadow behind his mother, who was shouting. He couldn't tell if it was anger or not, but that wasn't the point. Jogging over to Token, he fell into step beside him. Token glanced at him then grabbed his hand tightly to pull him along to his car, Kyle stumbling after. Mrs. Black's voice got louder as Token opened his car door and got in, Kyle following close behind. It was when she started down the driveway that Kyle panicked.

"Dude," he warned, but Token ignored him, gunning the engine with a damaging roar. The noxious odor of burning rubber clouded their wake as they tore down the quiet street and Kyle's knuckles were white as he clutched the side of his seat. "Token," he squeaked.

"They don't want me like this," Token heaved, words nothing more than ragged sobs. "They…" he trailed off, hand still tightly entwined with Kyle's.

He could do nothing but squeeze his hand back, giving Token room to breathe.

Stark's Pond was still and silent as Token poured out of the car and practically threw himself at the water's edge. Kyle was hugging himself in the cold, wondering whether he should call Stan. If Token was this upset…Carefully picking his way through the reeds, Kyle silently watched as Token waded out into the icy water, stopping just below his waist. His body was shivering violently and Kyle couldn't tell from this distance if it was the cold or the anguish. In the end he decided it didn't matter and soon Kyle was gasping at the freezing grip on his bones as he waded out to Token, coming up alongside him. He was shivering so hard that he could barely keep his eyes open and nearly jumped out of his skin when Token touched his shoulder.

"Where did you come from?" he asked, looking confused. "Why did you go back with me? Why are you standing out in fucking cold water with me?"

Teeth chattering as he tried to articulate, Kyle shrugged and instead of answering said, "Come h-home with me." Moving closer to Token and practically huddling to leech any warmth from the other boy, Kyle stuttered, "D-don't worry about anything, okay? Y-you can live with me until things calm down." He glanced up and blushed. Token was staring at him like he was a blind man who'd just regained his sight. Frowning, pretty sure his entire lower body was numb, Kyle jerked his head towards shore. "Can you stare at me on dry land? It won't do either of us any good if we get pneumonia and die." Hands wrapped in his sleeves, Kyle pawed feebly at Token's shoulder. He hiccupped lamely as Token abruptly grabbed him and wrapped him in the kind of hug that made even the water's clinging grip of cold fade away. The smooth angle of Token's jaw pressed the top of his cheek, his lashes fluttering against the tight black curls adorning the other boy's head. Even through the layers of clothing between them Kyle could feel Token shaking like a leaf. Turning his face slightly, he brought up his clothed paws and wrapped them securely around the middle of Token's slender back.

No, it wasn't cold anymore.

Outside of Kyle's house they sat side by side. The car was parked down the street. The sounds of the TV and his parents squabbling over something unimportant floated around as background noise. Token hadn't let go of Kyle's hand the whole way over, not even to turn the heat full blast so that during the drive his car was a motorized furnace. Right now it was his lifeline, his anchor. Reality was slowly ebbing in, but that was the last thing Token wanted. Though part of him guiltily wondered about Craig, who must be worried sick about him after what happened – maybe just as much for the whole incident as for his and Kyle's grand exit. But at this moment nothing much mattered except the warm borrowed cotton pants and the heavy cable knit sweater Kyle had brought out for him. Steam curled up into the air from the cup of still hot cocoa they were sharing. Mini marshmallows crowded the surface of the drink, slowly dissolving into ringlets of foam. And still he held Kyle's hand; sure that he'd leave an imprint with how hard he gripped the other boy.

Drinking from the steaming mug, Kyle warily watched Token staring out into nothing. It must be shock. Kyle tried to imagine what he would do, but couldn't fathom his mother ever throwing him out. Shifting, he refocused his attention on Cartman. The fatass had to pay. The embers of a plan stirred to catch fire and Kyle was grinning with such demented mischief that even Token took notice, leaning away warily.

"What is it?" he ventured.

"We're gonna give Cartman a taste of his own medicine," Kyle said, and chortled like a villain in a comic book. The winkle in his eyes must have been infectious because Token's expression had eased and a vicious little smile curled his mouth.

"I'm listening."

Promising Token he'd be back soon, Kyle stole away into the evening at a quick jog, trusting Token to hold off his mom while the flimsy "we're studying and can't be disturbed" story lasted. In the meantime, Kyle needed to pay a visit to Kenny.

…

When he found Kyle sprawled on his bed reading Penthouse Kenny pinched himself. Disbelievingly he said, "That hurt. Does that mean you're real?"

"I guess none of us _really_ know the answer to that," he teased, tossing the magazine aside. "This could be a fantasy."

Pursing his lips disapprovingly, Kenny nudged Kyle's foot with the toe jutting through a hole in his worn sock. "First off, don't think I'm impressed by this little breaking and entering stunt. Our locks are for shit." He ticked off his fingers, "Secondly, as delectable as you being frisky might be, I'm no spring chicken. I'm... a seasoned chicken."

Kyle made a face. "Meaning…?"

"Meaning I know when you want something that is definitely not my cock. Which is a damn shame."

"That's not actually the correct usage - Kenny!" he bawled when the words finally sunk in, leaping up to sock him in the shoulder. The blond yowled and sank as if shot down onto the bed.

"So violent," he accused, rolling around like a fish on land. "I might just hold you for ransom if you pull shit like that."

"As if you could hold me here," Kyle scoffed.

"What do you know, Broflovski?" he boasted, lunging out to bite Kyle's ankle. The obscenely girly shriek that Kyle made sent Kenny into screaming peals of laughter, coughing as the redhead stomped over and sat down heavily on his stomach, shoving his foot in his face. "You want me to kiss it better?" he asked, waggling his tongue at the bite mark.

Rolling his eyes, Kyle draped himself half across Kenny, face smashed into the threadbare blankets. "Probably gave me rabies. I'll forgive you if you do me a favor."

"Something to do with Token," he said nonchalantly, idly running his fingers over Kyle's calf. "The joke going around is that the two fags eloped." His expression was sad when Kyle looked at him, pale cheeks flushed with red. "Of course that's not as big as you smashing Cartman's face up."

"Kenny, Cartman needs to pay for what he did. That was fucked up shit. Outing someone to their parents?"

"So it's true then?" he parried, playing with the hem of Kyle's pant leg. "He is gay."

"Jesus," Kyle groaned. "I don't know how Token wants to handle this so don't breathe a word. To _anyone_."

"I don't know," he murmured coyly. "I have pretty loose lips."

Scowling at his friend, Kyle wriggled over until he was propped up on his elbow. "Are you serious?"

"Look," he sighed, "you're the one who came here with the idea that you could somehow seduce me into doing something that I'm sure will bite me in the ass later on." Even as Kyle had the decency to look affronted, Kenny chuckled. "Might as well be made out of glass, Ky. Now pay up or it's 'open sesame' and out comes the damning word vomit."

Furious, Kyle just stewed for a moment while the internal battle raged. "Then I get a package deal, perv," he ordered. "Silence and a favor."

"You'll get a package, all right," Kenny leered, shimmying closer.

Staunchly ignoring the idiocy that was Kenny, Kyle said very carefully, "I need your flash drive with the videos on it."

Eyes narrowed, Kenny probed, "What videos?"

Inching closer Kyle whispered, "_The_ videos."

"No. Fucking. Way," he protested, and went scrambling back away from Kyle like the boy was infected with the Plague. "Those are for emergencies of epic proportions. Like…" his nose wrinkled, "I can't even think of an emergency epic enough to warrant the unleashing of that footage. The world isn't prepared, Kyle."

Slinking forward, a cat that's cornered the mouse, Kyle pursued the blond. Kenny whimpered helplessly, splayed against the wall as if he wanted to melt straight through.

"N-now, Kyle, don't be hasty! Let's talk about this?"

"When the fuck did you decide talking was better than this?" he husked against Kenny's wincing face, crawling into the boy's lap like an oversized cat. He rolled his hips and Kenny emitted a strangled sound, eyes crossing. Kyle caught his chin, holding it firmly until Kenny opened his eyes and looked dizzily at him. "You know you can give it to me, Kenny."

"Holy. Fuck," he groaned. "Why are you so evil?" Kyle pressed in close enough that Kenny had to bite his lip. "This is evil. _So_ evil."

It was no secret that Kyle had a positively malevolent streak in him. When he wanted something he'd have it. And at the moment Kenny was standing in the way of something he wanted. The blond should know better than to resist. Curling a finger around a lock of blond hair, Kyle practically purred, "Kenny. Give me the videos. Cartman deserves this."

Looking pained, Kenny whimpered, "B-but how-"

"Let me worry about that," Kyle soothed.

Kenny shuddered pleasurably against the redhead. "Fine," he bit out, bringing his hands up to frame Kyle's slender waist. "But you're paying for this. No joke, Cartman will be out for my blood. I'm supposedly the only one who knows about those videos. And he doesn't know I made copies."

Scooting away from his friend, Kyle was all business. "How much is this gonna cost me?"

"Your lunch for the next two weeks."

"Deal."

"I'm not done yet," he said, holding up his hand. "You have to give me your history notes for midterms _and_ finals." He sniffed. "You really should quit being so stingy about those anyway..."

Rolling his eyes, Kyle nodded sharply. "Got it. Can you give me the videos now?"

An arrogant smirk uncurled along his lips and Kenny leaned forward. "And a kiss."

"Kenny," he scolded, bemused.

"What? You might as well practice for Token-" he yelped as Kyle cuffed him on the side of the head, ears glowing bright red. Kenny laughed easily, grabbing Kyle's raised fist and pulling, sending the boy tumbling forward. "Someone's guilty."

"Shut up, Kenny," he hissed, trying to shove the other boy away. But Kenny hooked a leg behind his knees, teeth bared in a grin.

"Only one way to shut me up, Kyle." He puckered his lips, eyes crinkling as the redhead glowered stormily.

"Videos first."

"Nope, nope, nope." This time he couldn't help but laugh as Kyle's face pinched. "C'mon," he murmured, "I'm not an ogre." Breathing against Kyle's lips, his gaze flicked up to see green eyes clenched shut. Smirking, he closed the distance between them and angled his mouth for a soft kiss. Kyle's lips were pliant and warm. He felt the boy stiffen as he ran his tongue over them, hoping for access. Titling his head, Kenny gently plied open Kyle's mouth and pushed in, breathing heavily through his nose as his body was swamped with sensation. Kyle's tongue hesitantly brushed his own and Kenny moaned brokenly, pushing forward. But Kyle jerked his head to the side and broke the kiss.

He wiped his mouth, glaring hotly at the blond. "Videos. _Now_."

Making a face, Kenny rolled over to his desk to rifle around in the drawers. After pulling various objects out he found the flash drive. He hesitated.

"Kenny," Kyle warned.

"Ugh," was his answer.

Finally Kyle just snatched the thing out of Kenny's hand, pocketing it before the blonde's self-preservation kicked in and he tried to get it back. "Okay. See you tomorrow, Kenny."

"Stingy," he grumbled, following Kyle to the window. As the redhead hefted himself up and swung out over the sill, he muttered under his breath, "Token, you are one lucky S.O.B."

…

"Dude, just in time," Token whispered urgently. "Ike's been patrolling the hall. Pretty sure he thinks I'm you and that you're still grounded. He's going to come in any second."

Handing the flash drive to a confused Token, Kyle excused himself out into the hall. Narrowing his eyes as Ike froze mid-march, he lunged just as his brother made to scramble to safety. Tackling the smaller boy, Kyle mercilessly gave him an Indian burn while Ike squalled. "Don't creep around like a bug, canuck" he told Ike.

"I'm gonna tell mom you snuck out!"

Kyle pinched his nose. "Prove it."

Token was still puzzling over the flash drive when he walked back into his room. Going over to his computer, Kyle said, "Time for payback."

Blinking, Token cautiously approached, worried Kyle was going to get that creepy maniacal look in his eye again. "So how are you going to do this?"

"Just watch," Kyle cackled, going to Facebook. And as Token watched with spellbound attention, Kyle hacked into Cartman's account and immediately set about changing key pieces of information. After switching religious beliefs to Muslim and editing the movies and books to include Brokeback Mountain and added Family Guy to Cartman's favorite shows, Kyle held out his hand. "Now for the grand finale."

Leaning over Kyle's shoulder, Token was looking at the screen. "What is it?"

"Just desserts." Grinning, Kyle uploaded the files. Glancing up at Token, he pressed 'play' and waited.

First Token's jaw dropped. Then his eyes grew larger and larger. Then he covered his face with his hands and said slowly, "That will never be unseen."

"I know," Kyle agreed sympathetically. "But it'll all be worth it when the entire school sees it and then Cartman's banned from Facebook because of pornographic images."

Staring at Kyle, Token looked dumbfounded. "You're…"

Kyle bit his lip.

"… Amazing." Token laughed. "_And_ evil."

"I prefer the term 'genius', thanks," Kyle shot back. "Now to seal the deal." Whirling around his chair, Kyle promptly rewrote the password to be jewsareawesome and logged out. "There, now it's perfect."

"He's going to be furious," Token said, sounding worried. Kyle regarded at him smugly, the light from the desk lamp throwing his face into shadow, except where it illuminated the iris in his right green eye. Token blinked. "Are you doing this all for me?"

Lowering his eyes, Kyle shrugged. "You could say I'm doing it for the good of mankind, but…" Nervously he looked up, heart skipping when he realized Token had knelt down so that he was just below Kyle's line of sight. "But…"

"Kyle," Token whispered. "Thank you."

And he kissed him.

It was sweet and chaste. Token's hand was cupping his face when the boy drew back, gazing up into Kyle's eyes from his seat on the floor. He chuckled at the shock on Kyle's face, nervously scratching the back of his neck. "Uh, sorry."

"You-"

"HEY STUPIDHEAD, MOM WANTS-" Ike froze midway into the room, gaping at Token. "Uh... Uhhh."

The door slammed as he scampered away down the hall. Kyle got up halfway before slumping back down. Then, narrowing his eyes, he wheeled back towards the window and started laughing. Token stood and peered out through the glass, shaking his head with a small smile as he saw Ike climbing all over his car like some deranged Canadian spider. Looking at the redhead, he said, "I should take him on a joyride to thank him for not narking us out."

"Well, I think it's more distraction than loyalty, but whatever," Kyle pointed out, cheeks flushing prettily the longer he held Token's gaze. "At least we'll sleep safe tonight."

"And what about tomorrow?" he cautiously asked, wincing. But Kyle stood and squeezed his hand. Token's heart fluttered.

"I said until things calm down, didn't I?" he murmured. "I tell my mom it's some big project, blah blah blah."

He suddenly perked up and bounded over to his bag. "That reminds me! I have something for you."

Kyle wandered over to Token rifling around in his backpack. When the boy pulled out a sheet of paper he only gave him a puzzled look. "What is it?"

"This," Token exclaimed with pride, "Is our ticket, Kyle."

His eyes widened, "Ticket to _where_?"

"Out of here," he answered, pushing the paper into Kyle's hands. "It's a team scholarship competition. The proposal is for a research essay." Biting his lip, he added, "I can make it up to now; bailing on you and the Victorian women authors."

"Token," Kyle breathed, "This is for $30,000."

"Yeah, 15K each." Sliding up the other boy and looking down at the paper alongside him, Token said, "We can do this. It's national, but it doesn't matter."

Now blushing furiously, Kyle shot him a sidelong look. "So the flock's back together?"

Mirroring his beaming smile, Token looked Kyle straight in the eye. "If you'll fly with me."

…

TBC

…

A/N: Sorry this was a boring chapter - my computer died and I only got tiny bits of time to piece it together. Thanks for your patience and support!

Things are gonna heat up next chapter, so stay tuned. : )

-Villain


	5. Chapter 5

A/N: I keep forgetting to mention that the official pairing title for Token/Kyle is **Toyle**. Kyken and Blackovski were close in the running, but Toyle came out on top. Sorry I didn't mention that before. XD

…

**Chapter 5**

Ike was uncharacteristically congenial when Kyle yelled at him to get out of the bathroom or face certain death. Mid-threat his little brother opened the door and stepped out, bashfully smiling at Token as Kyle scowled suspiciously. After checking the bathroom for booby traps Kyle came back into the hall to see Ike animatedly describing his dream car to an amused Token. Eyes flying wide with horror as Ike practically _flirted_, Kyle stomped over and grabbed Ike by the ears. "Bedtime for babies," he growled. "Token doesn't care about your toy Hot Wheels collection."

Flailing like a fish on the end of a hook, Ike sucker-punched him in the gut, able to wriggle free and shoot down the hall yelling, "MOOOOOM!"

"Just so you're aware," Token said, patting Kyle's back as the redhead wheezed awkwardly, bent double over the carpet. "I happen to like Hot Wheels. They're classic."

"You understand," Kyle groaned, holding his ribs, "that my brother has a major brocrush on you now." Turning his head like some red-plumed bird, he peered dryly at Token with one beady eye as he still struggled for breath.

Laughing easily, Token helped Kyle upright, slipping a hand across his lower back to support him through the door. "And you understand that your baby brother just kicked your ass with once punch."

Kyle snorted derisively. Ike was stronger than he looked, little fucker. That punch _hurt_. "He plays hockey. And eats roughly one cow a week."

"Well, we have plenty of those in South Park," he provided cheerily, laughing when Kyle made a face at him. "Careful, it'll get stuck like that."

"I don't need looks," he challenged, "when I have brains." He opened the medicine cabinet to root around for floss, cursing when water soaked into the cloth of his shirt from the sink. Ike had left water everywhere. Staring sadly down at the spreading clamminess over his stomach, he barely heard Token speak.

"You have both," he shrugged, his cheeks heating up with embarrassment when green eyes flew to him in surprise. Stubbornly staring into the mirror, he avoided Kyle's gaze until the other boy caught his eyes in the reflection and he froze up like a deer in headlights. Granted, the mirror was a stupid place to avert his eyes to and now he could see his idiotic, constipated expression as well as Kyle's prettily flushed face. Token cleared his throat in an inelegantly obvious diversion and said, "I forgot my toothbrush."

"I think we have extra," Kyle murmured, taking a second before turning away to look in the cabinet under the sink.

Token leaned back against the wall with his arms crossed, mentally berating himself for his apparent penchant for verbal social suicide. It was a weird, unsettling night. The strange shadow of abandonment hung about him, but Kyle was like a blaring searchlight that chased the shadows away. His eyes played along the faint paint patterns on the ceiling, drawing shapes out until he glanced down in surprise when a quiet thump signaled Kyle bumping his head against the cabinet door, the low curse hissed inaudibly. First his instinct was to ask Kyle if he was all right, but when Token saw Kyle on his hands and knees his tongue decided to forget how to work.

The thin cotton pants Kyle had on, worn and threadbare with age, clung to his body. Loose when he was standing, they now hugged his hips and ass as well as if someone had drenched Kyle with water. Token swallowed uncomfortably, feeling hot as he watched the hem of Kyle's shirt ride up his back while the redhead reached for something inside the cabinet, his spine arching slightly. Slowly exhaling, Token nearly choked when Kyle went "Aha!" and reached so far into the cabinet that the tops of the round globes of his ass were visible, almost as if they were actively tugging the waistline down for Token to see. Still bundled in the heavy sweater and pants Kyle had lent him, Token was thankful for the cover though he felt about a million degrees warmer than was humanly possible. Ripping his eyes away, he pulled at his collar, breath coming that much quicker.

Kyle was hot. Token knew this, of course, but the redhead liked layers and usually had some sort of argyle sweater or vest covering a long-sleeve shirt in addition to his hat. The boy was so covered up most of the time that this sudden dramatic lack of layers caught Token off-guard. Was Kyle even aware how _thin_ those pants were? Token was struggling to keep his heartbeat from growing to a deafening level, nearly whimpering when Kyle emerged triumphant from beneath the cabinet, his pajama pants slung indecently low on his hips so that his delicate hipbones were visible. It would probably be worth the awkwardness if Token walked forward and pulled them up for the redhead, as opposed to the humiliation of the completely unwanted hardness stirring between his legs. But the gratitude and awe he had for Kyle, from the very beginning, just continued to grow. Token tried to avoid the obvious; he was falling for Kyle. Hard.

"Oh, shit," Kyle snorted, pulling out a toothbrush still in its original plastic box. "Okay, I need to explain this."

Blinking, thoughts dissipating like thinning clouds, Token asked hesitantly, "Is that... NSync?" His eyebrows shot up. "Don't tell me that's a singing toothbrush."

"Jesus Christ," he muttered miserably. "It was a Hanukkah present from my grandma a few years back. I forgot about it."

He was laughing now, reaching forward to press the tiny red "play" button on the front of the toothbrush. They both burst into louder peals of laughter as "Bye Bye Bye" sounded in a tinny stream. "Well, I'm sure it helps get rid of plaque," he assured the redhead, who was blushing charmingly and practically guffawing into his hand. "I mean; Bye Bye Bye is a pretty strong hint."

Token was looking for toothpaste when Kyle held out a string of floss towards him. "Floss first," he said matter-of-factly. The other boy arched an eyebrow at him, but Kyle just pushed the floss into his chest adamantly. "Floss, floss, floss."

"I can floss after-"

"No," Kyle cut in, voice garbled as he began to floss fervidly while Token looked on with an expression of consternation. "Ish bashily worhis hoo do ih-"

"I don't speak the 'floss in mouth' dialect," he informed him patiently.

Kyle pulled the floss from his mouth and articulated carefully, "It's basically worthless if you floss before you brush. I mean, think about it."

Token did. "And?"

He gesticulated wildly and his floss flapped through the air as he made his point; "Okay, floss gets out the stuff between your teeth, where the brush can't go. But when you floss, residue gets left behind as the food is loosened. So if you brush first and _then_ work out the bits of food second you have residue left over to rot out your teeth!"

Tone wry, Token guessed, "No cavities?"

"No, tons," he admitted glumly. "I was born with thin enamel. Now, _floss_." He basically threw the string at Token, who plucked it neatly from the air, staring at him with an unreadable expression.

"You're kind of ADD, you know that?" he said fondly, enjoying again that pretty dusting of pink across Kyle's cheeks. "I like it."

"You like that I'm a spaz," Kyle clarified doubtfully, tossing his used floss into the bin. "And a terrible host."

"I prefer the term eccentric," he teased back. "And, Kyle, you've been a life-saver. Seriously." They fell into silence as Token flossed, Kyle occupying himself with attempting to pry the NSync toothbrush free from its packaging. He accidentally hit the "play" button several times, sending them both into fits of laughter before giving up and attacking the plastic with his teeth.

Careful to avoid setting off yet another round of canned "Bye Bye Bye", Token opened the medicine cabinet and hesitated when he saw three different toothpastes. "Which is safe to use?"

"This one's mine," he volunteered amiably, "It's cleaner."

"Cleaner?"

"Observe," was his cryptic answer. Flipping the top of the toothpaste open, Kyle squeezed out a pea-sized amount and neatly wiped it off with his finger, then rubbed it into his toothbrush. After rinsing the paste off, he handed the tube to Token. "Much less wasteful than smearing the brush over the opening, right? More hygienic, too."

"You realize you're fussing over toothpaste," Token interrupted gently. Though he still copied Kyle's example, wiggling his fingers under the faucet to rinse away the slippery feel.

"Toothpaste is… important," Kyle defended lamely, ducking his head in embarrassment. "God, this is why I can't have nice things."

The hollowed rushing sound of the brushing of teeth filled the space, Kyle leaning down over the sink and neatly spitting any foam into the bowl to wash it away immediately. Token took his time sweeping his eyes over Kyle, inwardly thrilled to see this side of the usual feisty redhead who was known as a spit-fire at school. The energy Kyle gave off was palpable, like a guitar string being struck. His eyes drifted down again to Kyle's ass, pushed out and just as pert as ever as Kyle spit into the sink again. A glob of toothpaste fell from his mouth unheeded and Token made a small noise when it plopped unceremoniously onto the front of the sweater. Hurriedly he bent down to spit and wipe his mouth, setting the toothbrush aside so that he could scoop handfuls of water up to wash out the foamy stain.

Finishing, Kyle stepped out of the other boy's way. "I can get you a new shirt, don't worry about it."

"Oh, it's okay," Token began, gripping the hem of the sweater, "I was getting warm anyway."

Something akin to a strangled peep snuck out between Kyle's lips, unanticipated turn of events unfolding too rapidly for him to get a grip on his reactions as Token stripped the sweater over his head. Turning quickly back to the sink, Kyle bit his lip. Token had _abs_. Stan didn't even have abs (he always said they were just hibernating for the winter).

"Where should I put this?" Holding up the sweater, Token realized that Kyle was hunched over the sink. "You okay?"

"Fiiine," he exhaled, eyes round as dinner plates while every blood cell in his entire body rushed to his face. Here he was turning into the human tomato while a shirtless boy with abs on display stood there right next to him. "Uh. You can put it on the hamper." As Token moved into the hall where the hamper was kept, Kyle's eyes darted up to catch his the back of his departing figure. Kyle didn't try to be overtly gay. Not the way most guys were overtly straight anyway. But in that moment he drank in the sight of Token's nicely muscled back like a cool glass of water. The pants he let him borrow were snug, hugging his narrow hips. At that moment Kyle fully acknowledged the girlish tizzy fluttering at the edges of his brain. Brains _and_ beauty, he mused, gathering himself to follow Token into the hall.

It turned out that Ike had stolen Kyle's sleeping bag for a lame camp out with his stupid little friends and failed to return or wash it. Fuming, Kyle ambushed him with a Wet Willy, sending the little monkey screeching down the stairs. Upon reporting the news back to Token it dawned on him that this new set of circumstances presented a very _delicate_ situation.

"I can deal with a blanket and the floor, dude-" Token assured him, just as Kyle said, "The bed's big enough-"

They both fell silent, Token scratching the back of his head, which of course elongated the lovely stretch of his torso. Kyle swallowed down a suddenly dry throat. "Um, really. The bed is okay. Unless, I mean, you are uncom-"

"No," Token swiftly exclaimed, lowering his gaze. "I mean... Are you okay with it?"

"Of course," he blurted, laughing nervously.

The white elephant in the room was currently doing somersaults and handstands.

"Maybe..." started Token meekly, "I could sleep on top of the sheets, and you could sleep under? That way..." he trailed off anxiously.

Objectively Kyle was perfectly aware how ridiculous this exchange was. They were both gay. They'd be sleeping in the same bed. Not a big deal in the scheme of things, and yet here they were.

The white elephant in the room was waving a rainbow flag and making kissing noises with its trunk.

Then there was the... _something_ between them to consider. But Kyle was terrified that Token's gratitude and the fact that they were the only two gay guys at school were influencing events. Granted, there was no denying that he was reacting to Token's body. With a different brand of appreciation, aside from his keenness on Token's answering nerdiness, Kyle found his feelings towards Token were evolving at rapid rate. But he was also Token's host – albeit a jumpy one. Sleeping in the same bed was like taking advantage, wasn't it?

"Kyle," he hazarded, "You have the same face you have in Chemistry class."

At the word 'chemistry', Kyle looked up. Who had chemistry? He blushed for the nth time that evening. "Sorry."

Squinting, Token smiled. He reached forward, pausing when Kyle flinched in apparent surprise. "You've got-" his fingers slid along the soft curve of Kyle's cheek, barely brushing the corners of his downturned mouth "-toothpaste on your face."

The white elephant in the room spontaneously combusted.

Fingers lingering along Kyle's jawline, Token licked his lips and raised his eyes to meet Kyle's alarmed gaze.

"I'm okay with sleeping togeth – sharing a bed if you are," he explained calmly.

His heart was pounding against his chest so hard his ribs felt like they were rattling. His brilliant reply was, "Sometimes I drool while I sleep."

Token had to clench his teeth to hold back the grin. "That's okay. Sometimes my dreams are so intense that I run in my sleep."

"I thought only dogs did that," Kyle whispered, his fingers flexing in a restless spasm at his sides as if he didn't know what to do with them.

"Well, unless my parents aren't telling me something..." he joked, losing himself in Kyle's eyes. The redhead's pupils were blown wide, merely a sliver of intense green encasing them. Kyle's fingers tips brushed his lower abdomen and Token's eyelids lowered slightly at the contact. It felt like fire.

A thousand miles away, or so it felt, a phone rang. It was the house phone. The pitter patter of Ike's feet raced across the periphery of their hearing and a few seconds later his voice came shattering between them in an infuriating bout of déjà vu.

"Buttface!" Ike bellowed, "Your nanny's on the phone! Call him with your cell!"

Blinking rapidly, Kyle wheeled back from Token as if burned. "Uh..." Spinning on his heel until he the saw his phone he remembered that it had been turned off almost all day. "The den mother," he mentioned distractedly, jogging over and quickly opening the screen to see an obscene amount of missed calls from Stan and Kenny. Sighing, he dialed Stan and held the phone up, waving apologetically.

"I have my own Mother Superior to report to," Token sulked, shaking himself to clear his head. Pulling out his own phone he was calling Craig within a few seconds.

As if on cue they both jerked their phones away from their ears as simultaneous lectures exploded acros the line. Eyes meeting in a somnolent look of solidarity, they walked to either corners of the room and proceeded to placate their respective best friends.

Stan, for one, was furious.

"Dude," hissed the all too familiar voice on the other end of the line, "Not answering your phone for like _twelve_ hours-"

Rolling his eyes, Kyle corrected waspishly, "It's been like four. Calm down." He could picture him perfectly. Undoubtedly Stan would be pacing his room like a metronome, probably stepping all over the homework he usually scattered on the floor because it somehow helped him study to lounge on his carpet (for whatever reason Kyle couldn't fathom, being so traditionally studious himself). "Stan. Your blood pressure."

"I'm not an old lady!" he objected passionately, flipping onto his bed and staring angrily at the ceiling. "You punch Cartman in the face then go running off Token to disappear off the face of the planet. And Craig says Token went to your house-"

"How does Craig know that?" he demanded, glancing nervously over at Token, who seemed to be valiantly working through a similar conversation.

"Tweek saw you driving past the coffee shop and told Craig." Stan pinched the bridge of his nose and took a deep breath. "Obviously shit is going down. And you put yourself right in the middle of it." Sighing deeply, he added quieter, "Kyle, this isn't just about being friends and studying together."

Still reeling from the idea that Craig and Stan were communicating voluntarily, Kyle barely caught the last bit of his super best friend's speech. "Well, this is where I want to be, Stan. Accept it. Or at least tolerate it." Huffing into the wall he was leaning his head against, Kyle stared down at the line of union where his blue walls met the dark brown carpet. His brows knit; there was the severed arm of a G.I. Joe lying mangled on the floor. Distractedly he nudged it with his toe.

"Just... don't be too stupid, okay?" Stan waited for a reply, chewing on his lower lip anxiously. He cradled his phone closer to the side of his head. "Kyle?"

A heavy sigh. "I will, Stan. I promise. But Token... He's..." he faltered slightly before saying firmly, "He's my friend and right now he needs my help."

Stan's voice was resigned; "I get that. I do." He paused. "Then I'm here for him, too. Okay?"

Closing his eyes, Kyle smiled broadly. "Thanks Stan."

On the other side of the room Token was trying to convince Craig that Kyle's house was a better option than going over to his. The other boy was obviously skeptical, and Token could hear Clyde making suggestive comments in the background, accompanied by various erratic exclamations from Tweek. Leaning against the window, he stared out into the evening without really seeing. He'd let Craig say his piece; he owed him that much.

"Right now you need your friends," Craig reminded him in a tight voice. "Dude, Kyle doesn't know you like we do."

"You're wrong," Token exhaled impatiently. "He knows me better than any of you. And I don't mean that to sound like an asshole, Craig. I mean that... you're no Elton John."

"Is that the only gay dude you could think of?" Craig shot back in a biting drawl, inspecting his fingers. There was chocolate under his nails from the day-old biscotti Tweek brought from the shop. He'd ended up in a tug-of-war with Clyde over the last one, hence the dirty nails. Wiggling his tongue against the tip of his finger, he added, "Look, if you need to cuddle or something-"

"Really?" he cut in, chortling with genuine amusement. "Craig, are you kidding me?"

"Bros do that sometimes," Craig defended sternly.

"You're saying you would cuddle me if I asked you?" Kyle was tip-toeing past, apparently finished with his own conversation. When he heard the word 'cuddle' the redhead froze and gaped at Token, who pointed at the side of his head and wound his finger around while mouthing, _Crazy_.

"A bro is a bro," Craig sanctioned as if it was some ancient pact.

A swell of affection welled up in his chest and Token chuckled. "That means a lot, man. It does." Kyle was now sitting on the bed, looking over the team scholarship application Token had shown him earlier. Though he stared down intently at the page Token was well aware that Kyle was listening in. "I think I'm gonna head to bed. It's been a weird day, yeah?"

"Yeah," Craig answered grudgingly. "Well, call if you need to. And don't... don't do anything."

Grimacing, Token hung up, cursing Craig's completely embarrassing approach to anything personal, or gay. Turning back to Kyle, he shrugged. "That wasn't so bad."

"I never really thought of Craig as a cuddler," Kyle observed wryly.

Token sat down next to him, the bed dipping beneath his weight enough that Kyle rocked towards him slightly. A thin wrist landed on the bed to keep him upright, and Token found himself distracted by the long fingers splayed on the bedspread. "He's not always so-" he stopped, considering the right word carefully. "So stoic."

"I figured," Kyle said, bringing his knee up to rest his chin on it. "He's very protective of you guys."

"We _are_ kind of a weird group," Token admitted, his voice warm. "It's funny how we all fell in together. Craig's painfully normal, and he's the anchor for our circle. Clyde is a crybaby and has the worst self-esteem I've ever seen. Well, besides Tweek, but then Tweek is in a league of his own and Craig's the only one who can really calm him down. Then there's me; the only black kid in school. And the only _other_ gay kid."

"A motley crew indeed," Kyle joked, smile brightening up his face and calling an answering smile from Token.

"Is that a word play on the 80s rock group," he asked playfully, "or Canterbury Tales?"

He grinned like a hundred watt bulb. "What do you think?"

"My favorite was always the Miller's Tale," he confessed, flushing when Kyle regarded him with pleasant surprise. "I can't resist sex and intrigue."

Snorting, Kyle decided, "I think the Physician's Tale is my favorite."

"That's a depressing choice," he said. "The daughter gets decapitated. Fun stuff." Excitedly leaping up on his knees, Kyle explained in the breathless way that Token had recognized as a sign of genuine passion – or more accurately, a sign when Kyle was seriously geeking out.

"It was political commentary that he disguised as a story," he gushed. "Historians say he wrote it before most of the other Tales as a moral observation on the virtues of a governess in light of a scandalous elopement between an English aristocrat and a French Earl." He tried to catch his breath, eyes gleaming.

Token was grinning stupidly, staring at this person who continued to be such a strange endearing bundle of increasingly pleasant surprises. He shook his head. "That's amazing."

Mentally kicking himself, Kyle chuckled self-deprecatingly, running a hand through his mess of curls. Then he looked away, fiddling with a hole in the cloth stretched over his knee. "You can go stay with them instead if you want. Like Craig said."

That hurt Token more than he expected it to. He sat up straighter, and his humor was strained with frustration when he said, "You're going to give me whiplash; you push me away, then you pull me back."

"Token, I-" Kyle groaned, falling back on the bed with his face covered. "Shit. Don't say that, you make it sound like we're some tween melodrama."

"As long as I get to be the sparkly one," Token teased, lying down beside Kyle with his arms crossed behind his head. "I don't want to leave, Kyle," he said seriously, aware that the redhead was looking at him with bright, searching eyes. He kept his gaze trained forward, not trusting himself if he met Kyle's eyes directly when they were this close to each other. Reaching up, he trailed his fingers along the dark blue walls, picking at bits of tape that must have once held up pictures or posters. The ceiling was a different color, something he hadn't noticed before. It was a slightly lighter blue.

Rolling onto his side, Kyle bit his lip nervously. "It might be boring around here once the charm of the NSync toothbrush wears off." Taking a rattling breath, smiling sadly, he tugged on his t-shirt and twisted the hem in his hands. "_I_ might get boring. If I get that worked up over the fucking Canterbury Tales." He looked helplessly at Token.

He turned onto his side,their faces now just inches apart. A thrill of butterflies swirled around his stomach. The light from Kyle's desk lamp was to the redhead's back, casting his face in honeyed shadows. His eyes were dark pools, mere hints of green framed by muted tendrils of hushed crimson running over a pale cheek. Token glanced down at Kyle's mouth, remembering the soft pressure of their chaste kiss when he had been so overwhelmed with gratitude for Kyle's selfless kindness. Even in shadow it was slightly pink, a subtle hint of warmth. Shaking himself, he looked up deeply into Kyle's eyes again and said with an urgent honesty, "Kyle, you could _never_ be boring. You don't realize... I'm just freaked from today. Give me a chance, okay? I want to be here."

_With you_ he left unsaid.

…

He was whistling one of his favorite pan flute tunes when Kenny noticed someone following him. At first he panicked, thinking it was Bebe's dad until he remembered her parents were not just out of town tonight, but out of state. Hence his disheveled state and the event of his walking home at whatever the hell time it was at night. Which might explain the reason someone was following him – this time of the night in his neighborhood wasn't the safest in the world, but Kenny usually knew the meth heads or dealers prowling around. When he turned to confront whoever it was - most likely a neighbor or some stupid kid - Kenny seized up and said clearly, "Well, fuck."

Cartman looked incensed. He hadn't even bothered to put on a jacket over his Cheesy Poofs t-shirt. Kenny was staring at him with a guilty expression and Eric sneered, "Hi Kenny."

"Hiiiii, Cartman," he wheedled, inching back.

"Don't run, po' boy," Eric snapped.

"I-I just have to go back home for something." Like a gun or bear spray, he thought ruefully. Goddamn Kyle and his stupid fine ass; Kenny should_ never_ have trusted him with those videos. Shit. "Let's say I meet you back here in-"

His hand was around Kenny' throat in an instant. "Kinny," he warned, voice reverting back into his odd childhood twang. "I don't have time to kick your ass right now. Get your dad's ladder, we're gonna pay the Jew a visit."

...

Token couldn't sleep for several reasons, and they all had to do with Kyle. The redhead had fallen asleep practically mid-sentence, railing (albeit quietly) against the film adaptation of _A Knight's Tale_. They'd stayed up whispering about books and movies for at least a couple hours, until Kyle's eyelids drooped and he eventually could no longer keep them open. In the silence that descended Token just gazed at Kyle's slumbering face, relaxed and vulnerable. A powerful urge to touch him hit Token and he withdrew, scooting to the edge of the bed as he flushed in shame. It wasn't as if he'd never had thoughts about another boy, but he was afraid to think too hard when Kyle was asleep right next to him. But there was no denying that Kyle's face – no, _all_ of Kyle - was beautiful. His voice, his wit, his ridiculously acute memory, and the fact that he could switch seamlessly from debating the political ideologies behind the French revolution to admitting he'd played Resident Evil 4 ten times and had danced like a loon when he'd unlocked Ashley's armor the third time through.

In short, Kyle was the closest thing to perfect that Token had ever met. He'd never paid any attention before, mainly because of Craig but also to protect the ruse of being straight. When Kyle was around Token had practically donned blinders. Back then it had been the thought of getting to college that saved him. The thought that he could last just one more year pretending then he'd be free.

Yet in this moment he felt freer than he ever had before. Taking a deep breath, he drew a trembling finger along Kyle's cheek. The redhead sniffed and wrinkled his nose. Token laughed silently, moving forward until the heat radiating from Kyle's body cast a warming glow along his naked torso. He'd seen Kyle sneaking glances at his body and the feeling it gave him was euphoric; he wanted Kyle to see all of him and he was aching to see all of Kyle, too.

Holding his breath, Token slipped his hand forward carefully to cup the side of Kyle's face. Mumbling in his sleep, Kyle pressed into his palm, a dopy little smile curling along his mouth. He brought his arms clasped against his chest and curled up sweetly, effectively trapping Token's hand as his hair fell across the side of his face. Playing his fingers gently over smooth pale skin and cautiously withdrawing, Token took one last long look at Kyle before he closed his eyes, hoping for sleep.

There was a sharp tap at the window. Token jerked up, glancing first at Kyle who remained steadfastly asleep. Slipping from the bed, Token went to the window and ripped open the curtain.

To his merit, he didn't scream when Cartman's face loomed out from the night like a hungry ghost.

"Cartman," he hissed, jerking the window open and thrusting his upper body out to block the other boy. "What are you doing?"

Ignoring him, Cartman demanded in a shabby stage whisper, "Why are you in Kahl's room?"

A voice floated up from below, "Who's there? Whoa, Token! ?"

He looked down to see a sheepish Kenny holding the bottom of the ladder. "Hey, man," he answered sarcastically, "What's up?" Snapping his attention back to Cartman Token growled, "Kyle just got to sleep. Go away."

"Wait, is Kyle naked?" Kenny asked excitedly.

A thousand and one things flickered through Eric's shadowy eyes, but there wasn't time for that now. "I need to talk to the Jew."

"Not gonna happen," Token parried easily, ignoring Kenny. Their low voices weren't enough to wake Kyle and he was going to keep it that way. "You can talk to him tomorrow."

"That'll be too la – Godammit, Token," he seethed. "Kyle vandalized my personal propertah!"

Kenny was craning his neck to see better. "Dude, you're shirtless! Or are _you_ naked! ?" He sounded way too hopeful, jumping up and down like a puppy. "Is anybody naked! ?"

A light went off in Token's head at the note of real desperation that had been in Cartman's voice. "Oh, I see. You want Kyle to take the videos down. Well, here's the thing. You deserved that, Cartman. Having your personal life spewed all over the internet sure is awesome, isn't it?"

"Can you get your panties in a twist another time?" he spat, avoiding Token's direct gaze.

"I know what Kyle changed your password to."

Kenny was yowling like a cat, "Heeey, don't ignore meee."

"Then tell me!" Cartman ordered.

"Why the hell should I?" he asked curiously. "Really. Why?"

"Because I _will_ get you back," he snarled, the wood on the ladder creaking as he gripped it in rage. "I'll get you and the Jew back."

"And our little dog, too?" he added sweetly. But a part of him went cold at Cartman's tone. He wasn't kidding. Token made a decision. "Let's make a deal." Kyle would probably balk at what he was about to do, but Token was never one to hold a grudge. And revenge was a vicious cycle; he didn't have the energy for it, he never had. "I'll tell you if you leave us the fuck alone."

Kenny was now mooing up at them obnoxiously.

Eric regarded him in silence. "Leave 'us' alone?" he mocked. "So you and the Jewfag are an 'us' now?" He chose to ignore the hollowed core in his voice and instead focused on the way Token shifted tellingly.

"That's none of your business," he said quietly, glancing one more time at Kyle. "Now should you really be wasting time here?"

Instead of answering Cartman whipped out his iPhone and waited.

"You know, it's a long walk back to my house," Kenny coaxed tactlessly, "I'm sure there's room for one more up there?"

He smirked at Cartman, "Jewsareawesome. All one word."

Rolling his eyes, Eric tapped in the password, exhaling when it logged him in. He took a few moments to take down the video, secretly thankful that almost no one ever paid any attention to his profile as it was. When the damning video was gone Eric raised his eyes once more to Token, who stood casually leaning against the window frame.

"Do we have a deal?"

There was no way he was stupid enough to think that taking down one video erased it from existence. "You still have copies."

"_I_ don't", he shrugged cryptically. "But they're out there. I wouldn't worry though, no one needs to see your torrid affair with a blow-up doll." He'd noticed in the video that it had red hair, but at the time said nothing. "I hope you two have a happy life together." Cartman was just watching him impassively, which unnerved him. "Pretty sure our business is done here," he hinted after a beat. Cartman seem to blink back awake, and from down below Kenny whined that if he couldn't be part of the excitement he might as well go home.

Cartman and Token locked eyes one last time and Token was left with a deeply unsettled feeling when the other boy finally descended the ladder, abruptly cuffing a whining Kenny on the wide of the head.

Returning to the bed after locking the window securely, Token slipped between the sheets as carefully as possible, marveling at the depth with which Kyle managed to sleep. Then he jumped slightly when Kyle's muted voice reached his ears.

"It was dumb," he murmured sleepily.

Token leaned in to hear him better, "What?"

"A... Knight's Tale. Dumb," he slurred, smacking his lips and stretching.

"You said that already," he hushed back, amused by Kyle's memory even as he sleep talked. Then the redhead wriggled in a stretch and Token held his breath, enamored by the arch of Kyle's body, the blankets slipping down to pool in his lap, revealing the loose waistband of the pants that had been pulled obscenely low by nighttime tossing and turning. The hollow V of Kyle's pelvis was on full display as the redhead made a small sound and itched at his belly, twisting his hips so that his pants were pulled even _lower_, practically revealing-

Token snapped his eyes away and buried his head in the pillow, trying to calm his pulse. Blood pounded in his ears and the flush of heat spread throughout his entire body. Biting his lips _hard_, he squeezed his eyes shut. How the hell was he supposed to sleep now?

...

A/N: I wrote a large portion of this while hopped up on an obscene amount of sugar. FYI.

-Villain


	6. Chapter 6

A/N: Effing incredible Toyle fanart (minus the spaces obvsies): xnowherex. tumblr. com / post / 23337689513 / tokenxkyle-because-i-agree-that-there-needs-to-be

...

**Chapter 6**

Any silly fantasies about waking up next to Kyle and starting the morning with an exhilarating conversation - or maybe even something possibly resembling physical contact - were promptly and deftly dashed by one Sheila Broflovski. Not only did she come bursting into the room (sending a stupefied Token rolling off the bed in sheer fright) but she informed him that he should hand over his dirty shorts so that she could get them in the wash.

"Borrow a pair of Kyle's," she trumpeted, misconstruing his look of fear as one of confusion. Then she waltzed out the door with a departing bark at Kyle to get his butt downstairs for breakfast.

In the aftermath of hurricane Sheila Token was dazed, still trying to properly wake up. For a second he jumped, thinking the sun was rising abnormally fast and near, only to realize that the sun was Kyle's jewfro in all its morning time glory. Token cocked his head to the side as the redhead blinked away sleep, yawning sloppily. He looked a bit like a Persian cat that had been electrocuted. Or maybe a defective pompom.

Kyle blinked owlishly at him. "Eh?"

Wincing, Token cleared his throat. He hadn't meant to say that last bit out loud. "Nothing... You sleep well?"

"I think I'm still sleeping," he murmured, rubbing his eyes. "Sorry that my mom does that. You get used to it."

A small part of him cheered at the thought that he'd be there long enough to get used to it, just as another part sunk and tightened when the reality of yesterday's events slammed into him like a bus. Kyle must've realized because he made his clumsy way over, eventually sloping down the side of the bed like a melting ice cream cone to pat Token on the knee. There was a muffled noise that could have been words of comfort drifting up from where Kyle's face was smooshed into the floor but Token couldn't be sure. Grinning, he poked the nest of red hair experimentally and a pale hand lashed out defensively somewhere in his vicinity but still missed him by a mile.

"Your aim's off," he informed the other boy good-naturedly, rolling away when Kyle's head popped up and he attempted another strike. "You always so pleasant in the morning?"

Like some mutated inchworm Kyle struggled to disentangle himself from the sheets that had wrapped him in a cocoon of cotton. "I'm awesomely pleasant at all times," he yawned, finally giving up on his unproductive flailing to lie there pathetically. "You okay?"

"Better," he muttered, returning to pick at the folds of the sheet. With their powers combined Kyle was freed. He lay sprawled over the carpet, red hair fiery against the deep brown of the floor, green eyes increasingly more alert.

"Did I drool on you?"

It was asked so sincerely that Token was taken slightly aback. "N-not that I'm aware of." He made a show of looking all over himself. Kyle snorted, stretching. Token smiled crookedly. "Did I kick you running in my sleep?"

Kyle shook his head. "Nope."

"Then we're golden," he confirmed genially, leaning onto one hand to look back down into Kyle's face. If it was possible he was even more attractive in the morning. Eyes hooded with lingering sleepiness, hair tousled, cheeks flushed. Token swallowed down a suddenly dry throat.

Caught in brown eyes Kyle whispered, "If we don't get downstairs soon Ike's gonna eat everything."

"Ah, the beauty of siblings."

"I suggest you learn how to use your utensils like weapons as opposed to actual tools for eating," he said. "I spend more time fending off Ike than I do enjoying the food I'm forced to protect."

Scrubbing his fingers through his hair Token swung up to his feet. "Well then, off to battle." Chuckling, he reached down towards Kyle, meeting green eyes again when the other boy took his hand. He didn't miss when Kyle's eyes flickered over his bare chest, white teeth catching a plush lower lip. Grinning, he hauled Kyle to his feet. They stood toe-to-toe, hands still clasped together. Kyle let out a slow exhale, curls tumbling over his forehead. His breath was sweet; how the hell did someone have sweet morning breath? In that moment Token honestly doubted that Kyle was human.

A monstrous gurgling grumble yowled up between them like a begging cat and Kyle flushed beet red.

He burst out laughing, squeezing Kyle's hand. "Off to battle it is."

...

Licking strawberry jam off his chin, Craig squinted at the front door as the doorbell rang. It was too damn early for Mormon missionaries. Getting to his feet and sporting a decidedly sour look upon his face, Craig went to the door still munching on a piece of toast. When he opened the door it was to see Stan Marsh standing on his doorstep, scuffing at the cement with worn sneakers. He pursed his lips, already closing the door. But Stan stuck his foot in, shouldering through.

Scowling and looking as unhappy to be there as Craig was to have him there, Stan sighed and said sullenly, "Look, can we just let bygones be bygones?"

The gears turning in Craig's head were practically audible. "What does that mean?"

Frustrated, Stan stuffed his hat into his jacket pocket, trying to articulate his thoughts. "I guess, let's just be cool. Stop this feud. It's kinda hillbilly, dude."

"Did you just call me a hillbilly." He didn't waste the effort to make it a question. Stan Marsh was fucking annoying and he was going make Craig late for school. "Go away."

"Well, I'm going away where you're going away," he muttered, crossing his arms stubbornly. "To school."

Arching a skeptical brow, Craig mirrored Marsh's posture. "You want us to walk to school together?"

Pushing into the other boy's personal space, Stan tilted his chin up challengingly. "Yeah, I do." Holding Craig's gaze, he added, "For Token and Kyle."

Craig chewed the rest of his toast, glaring at Stan. "So we're going to make nice. Just like that?"

Grabbing Craig's backpack off a chair, Stan held it out for him. "I don't even know why we started hating each other. I thought about it and looked back, but I couldn't figure it out."

"Rules of the jungle?" he offered, taking his bag and hefting it onto his shoulder.

Stan snorted, "You've never followed the rules before."

The sun was cutting through the cold with great swathes of golden light, drenching the trees and reflecting blindingly off the windows of the cars lining the street. Craig and Stan walked along in silence, their footsteps syncing up perfectly. At the end of the block Craig turned to Stan, keeping his eyes on the other boy as Tweek jogged over. When the blond cautiously approached, wringing his wrists, Craig rolled his eyes and said, "Marsh is gonna walk to school with us, Tweekers."

Twisting messy blond hair around a finger while his hazel eyes darted between the two of them, Tweek nodded jerkily. He offered Stan a shy smile. "H-hi, Stan."

Shoulders sagging with relief (though he wasn't sure why Tweek's approval was so important) Stan moved over as Tweek fell into step beside them. He kept glancing over at Stan bashfully then over to Craig and his eyes would light up. Even as he kept up conversation, Stan couldn't help but shake his head; he'd never paid attention to Tweek before but the kid was infectious when he was happy. Like every other emotion the little blond displayed, it caught on quickly and soon Stan was laughing easily. A few blocks from school Clyde joined them and the laughter only increased in volume until Stan could barely breathe because he was laughing so hard. It was different than it was with Kyle, Kenny or Cartman. Not better, just different. Over Tweek's progressively untidier head of hair Stan met Craig's slightly darker set of blue eyes and they shared a still slightly awkward smile.

...

He pretended that he didn't go searching for Cartman, but if the look Token gave him was any indication he wasn't doing a very good job. Hunching his shoulders, he scowled dejectedly at the ground.

"Is it _so_ bad that I wanted to see his face when he's humiliated in front of everyone and may or may not start blubbering like the fat infant he is?" he asked innocently, eyes wide and watery as he beseeched the other boy. Token just continued to give him _that_ look so Kyle gave up and pouted in silence. The next moment he looked up to see Stan and Craig comparing Biology notes, looking all buddy-buddy. Freezing in his tracks, Kyle gaped like a fish. Next to him Token let free a low whistle.

"I didn't see that coming," he whispered conspiratorially.

Kyle squinted suspiciously. "It might not actually be real. Do you hear Twilight Zone music?"

"No," laughed Token.

"Huh," he conceded. "I still don't believe it." Stalking over to them, he was intercepted by Kenny wearing a shit eating grin and sucking noisily on a Tootsie Pop.

"So what is it exactly; a 6 pack, maybe an 8 pack?" he asked breezily, slinging an arm across Kyle's shoulders and steering him back down the hall towards class.

Jabbing Kenny in the ribs with a disturbingly sharp index finger, Kyle asked wearily, "What are you talking about?"

"Token's abs, you minx," he purred, showing teeth. "If the moonlight wasn't casting spells on my eyes he looked pretty hot without a shirt."

Pushing Kenny's arms off him, he glared hotly at the blond. "What are you talking about?"

"Last night," he said, confused. "You know, when he wasn't wearing a shirt?"

His tone was dark; "How would you know that, Kenny?"

"Cartman and I stopped by-" He clarified, "And by 'stopped by' I mean did that creepy ladder thing he tends to do instead of contacting you by normal means-"

"Wait, _what_?" he snapped.

Kenny frowned. "Wait, what _what_?"

Stalking closer, he hissed, "_Explain_."

In the few minutes it took Kenny to sputter out an explanation under Kyle's stormy ire Token had wandered back over to them, intending to walk Kyle to his first class. What greeted him was a pair of irritated green eyes.

"Uh-" he started, but Kyle held up a hand to cut him off.

"Kenny and the Fatass paid us a visit last night and you didn't wake me up?"

Looking guilty, Token shrugged. "You were already asleep..."

"Dude, you let Cartman manipulate you into giving him the password!" Pursing his lips, Kyle crossed his arms peevishly.

He sighed, scratching the back of his head self-consciously. "Would you believe me if I told you that he didn't manipulate me? Kyle, I didn't want to start up another vicious cycle. He learned his lesson. Well," he corrected himself at Kyle's unimpressed look, "even if he didn't learn his lesson, at least he's gonna back off for now. I know that you and he have this _thing_, but that's just not my style. I'd rather focus on more positive things anyway." He smiled shyly, touching Kyle's arm.

Kenny giggled.

Shooting the blond a rancorous warning glare, Kyle turned sunnily back to Token. "I'm not getting rid of that video. And the moment – the _second_ he tries to pull any shit I'm hacking the school's system and making that video the homepage on every computer in the district." Cocking his head with an angelic smile, Kyle turned on his heel and marched down the hall.

Token shuddered. "Kyle's-"

"Scary as fuck? Yeah," Kenny confirmed brightly. "But he must really like you, man." Giving the boy an enthusiastic thumbs up, he left a baffled Token in the hall to follow Kyle's trail. He went around the back of the school and found the redhead.

Kenny hopped up next to him on the parallel bars, legs swinging freely. Tootsie Pop dangling from his mouth he gracefully swung backwards and ended up hanging upside down to trail his fingertips along the woodchips covering the ground. His t-shirt fluttered along his torso, bunching under his arms. From above Kyle pursed his lips disapprovingly, curling his legs along the bar so that he could reach down and tug the sucker from between the blonde's lips with an audible pop.

"You'll choke and die," he informed him primly, sticking the sucker into his own mouth. These were wasted on Kenny anyway. For being Kenny, he didn't suck on candy very well. With candy, Kenny was a biter. Kyle grinned inwardly, but kept the jibe to himself. No sense encouraging Kenny's penchant for vulgarity. "Like that time I _told_ you not to try and show off in shop class and you nearly cut your finger off."

Flailing one leg out, hanging crookedly by the other, Kenny spoke through the mess of his shirt trailing off his skinny torso, "What if I was showing off for you?"

"That doesn't help your case," he said, slapping Kenny's foot away as the blond tried to nudge his hat off with the toe of his shoe. "I'm not impressed with manly displays of stupidity."

"That's right," he exhaled heavily, hanging limp as the blood rushed to his head. "You go for the brainy types." He raised his eyebrows at Kyle, face turning an increasingly alarming shade of puce the longer he hung there.

Clearing his throat, Kyle popped the sucker out of his mouth, trying to gauge exactly how many licks were left until the center. "Speaking of Shop Class, did you hear about Mr. Adler? He got fired after getting accused of messing with students."

"Well, he lingertouched like _everyone_," Kenny told him flippantly, abs flexing as he clambered back upright on the bar. "So I'm not surprised."

Scrunching his face up and grudgingly surrendering the confiscated candy, Kyle asked, "What the hell is 'lingertouch'?"

Waggling his tongue along the sucker, Kenny gave Kyle a droll look. "You know; when you touch someone lingeringly? He did it to the girls all the time."

"But why would you say lingertouch instead of just saying 'lingering touch'," deadpanned Kyle irritably.

"Too many syllables," he parried, sucking noisily on the candy in his mouth.

Frowning, Kyle counted; "There's only one more syllable in 'lingering touch'."

"Not if you use it in a sentence." Kenny crunched down raucously on the Tootsie Pop, twisting his head to tear it off the stick like meat off a bone. The redhead regarded him with distaste. "Look," he said through chocolate and hard candy, "On my deathbed the seconds I wasted on extra syllables will haunt me."

Looking distinctly unimpressed, Kyle swung down off the bars and started strolling away. "You do realize that you've spent five minutes explaining this all." He didn't have any warning before a pair of gangly arms grabbed him from behind and Kenny blew a messy raspberry into the back of his neck. Yelping, he twisted and socked the blond in the shoulder, gagging as he ran his hands over the slightly sticky spot on his neck. "GROSS."

"I could never regret time spent with you," he sang, dancing nimbly out of Kyle's reach as the redhead gave a very unladylike growl and launched at him. "Hey now, I'm not against practicing a literal definition of lingertouch if that helps you understand, but the key is to be _gentle_ – OOF."

Token turned the corner just as Kyle wrenched up Kenny's boxers in a merciless wedgie. It was about to turn atomic (Kyle wrestling Kenny's feet up to hook the hem of his boxer's over his toes) when Token cleared his throat and the two boys froze. Kyle looked horrified and Kenny appeared slightly disappointed at the interruption. The blond continued to mope as Kyle scrambled off of him, the very picture of guilt.

"Am I interrupting something?" Token tested the waters, looking between them. "You don't have to stop on my account."

Rolling over onto his back and sighing, Kenny admitted, "I was looking forward to exacting revenge for an atomic wedgie. They don't bother me any more after years of them from Kevin."

Curious, playfully ignoring Kyle's embarrassed red face, Token asked, "What's revenge for an atomic wedgie?"

"Pantsing," he sighed mournfully. "I love me some justified pantsing." He shot an obvious look at Kyle's ass and the redhead squawked defensively, twisting around to protect himself. "C'est la vie."

"In other news, Token intervened diplomatically as Kyle snarled, "The first bell just rang."

"Ah, the time is nigh for all little boys and girls to scamper off to their studies," Kenny warbled in what could be the worst British accent Kyle or Token had ever heard. He gulped down the chunk of candied tootsie roll sticking to the roof of his mouth.

...

Kyle walked into 3rd period with arms full of notes and textbooks. He hadn't seen Cartman that day, and even if Token seemed to think the vicious cycle had a wrench of truce thrown into it, Kyle wasn't so naïve. Ransacking his own locker, he'd taken everything of any value just in case Cartman decided to exact revenge on the innocent Ticonderoga #2s and books he had in it. He was laden with all this when he realized that his regular seat next to Stan (reinstated out of sympathy for his super best friend) was currently occupied by _Craig_.

Sitting down next to Token, Kyle twisted around and openly stared at the two boys. When Stan didn't look up from something Craig was showing him Kyle made a tiny frustrated noise, catching Token's attention. He glanced down when something brushed his arm; a note Token had scribbled out on a piece of notebook paper. It read: _What's up?_

Grabbing a pen, he wrote back, _Stan and Craig. Sitting. TOGETHER._

Token reached over; _So?_

Kyle pursed his lips. _I didn't get the memo that Hell froze over._ Whipping out his phone, he hastily texted Stan, glaring holes into the other boy as he waited for him to get his message.

Stan glanced down at his phone.

_Y r u sitting w Craig?_

He snorted and showed the text to Craig, who rolled his eyes. As the teacher began to pass back homework from last week Stan sent back a hurried text.

Kyle's cantankerous temperament soured further when he read Stan's text.

_ R u serious rite now? _

Surreptitiously peeking over Kyle's shoulder, Token read the exchange and chuckled, holding up his hands submissively when Kyle shot him a scathing glare. "Sorry, you take seating arrangements very seriously?"

"Do you not see what I'm seeing?" he blurted, ducking when the teacher glanced over. "Tweedle-dum and Tweedle-dee-liberately-holding-a-grudge-for-the-last-ten-years are sitting together of their own volition."

"Is that bad?" he wondered aloud, craning around to grin at Craig. "I like them sitting together. Means I get to sit with you-" he glanced sidelong to catch the self-conscious smile on Kyle's face – "and get a nice view as a bonus." He laughed when Kyle elbowed him for that remark. "What, you don't think so?"

"Sight-seeing aside," said Kyle sarcastically, "This day is just... all wrong. No raging Fatass swearing bloody revenge or just coming at me with fists flying. And now Stan and Craig making nice? It's just... wrong, dude."

"Kyle, you sound like a social warmonger," he pointed out delicately. "Peace and love is nice, I promise."

" 'War is the mother of everything'." Kyle buried his face in his folded arms.

Quirking an eyebrow, Token smiled at the teacher as he accepted his homework from the other night. 105% including extra credit. He grinned. Glancing down at Kyle, he whispered to him, "Whatever, Napoleon."

"Actually," he quipped, peering up at Token with one uncovered eye, "It was Heraclitus who said that."

"You know he went crazy and lived with goats in the mountains," he admonished smugly. "He died covered in cow manure, baking in the sun." When Kyle sat up, eyes narrowed, Token covered a laugh.

"Touché," grumbled Kyle morosely, looking away when the smile he was fighting finally blossomed over his face.

...

They were walking home when Kyle suddenly turned to Token and said, "No one else on the entire planet would know who Heraclitus is."

"Well," he reasoned, "A hardcore philosophy nerd would." He continued walking, only realizing after a few steps that Kyle wasn't following. Looking back, Token saw the redhead just standing there, regarding him with a thoughtful expression. "Not a fan of philosophy? We can stick to literature and history if you prefer-" Kyle was suddenly very close, shocking Token into silence. Red hair filled his peripheral, green eyes pulling him into their depths effortlessly. For a moment he forgot how to breathe. "Uh, Kyle?"

"Token," he started, clearing his throat. "I really liked it when you had your shirt off."

Brown eyes widened. "If I knew philosophy did it for you I would've been quoting Plato ages ago."

"_You_ do it for me," he whispered, the ever-ready blush spilling across his skin like ink across a page. Token's eyes somehow got even rounder and Kyle ducked his head in shame. "Look, you're the only person I-" he faltered, finally covering his face and groaning into his hands. "I mean, I'm a nerd of epic proportions and there's never been-" Again he stopped, frustration stinging his eyes. "Can you stop me before I make a complete idiot out of myself? Scratch that," he added, "Can you just put me out of my misery." Slumping dejectedly, Kyle stared hard at the ground. "Maybe I should've just mailed you my ear or something more romantic."

"Because severed body parts are definitely sexy," he drawled.

"Worked for Van Gogh," Kyle shrugged glumly.

"You don't have to mimic an Impressionist to make an impression on me," he said.

Kyle's embarrassment evolved into a look of abject horror. "That is the worst pun I've ever heard in my _life_."

Equally disturbed, Token looked around as if he could find someone else to blame for the criminal level pun he'd just vocalized. "That... Just came out of my mouth, didn't it?"

"It did," Kyle confirmed, staring at Token with an unreadable expression. Token was squirming under his gaze. He took two steps forward, grabbed Token by the shoulders and stood on his toes to reach parted lips. Swallowing the brief gasp of surprise from the other boy, Kyle pressed their mouths together into what quickly became a searing kiss.

Token was caught up in a whirlwind that tore at his hair, ripped his heart and punched him soundly in the gut. Kyle's mouth was hot, his tongue a licking flame that ignited a racing heat that spiraled through him with the force of a gale. He gripped the redhead tightly, their kiss breaking only so that he could force Kyle's chin up to attack his neck, hand curling beneath his ass to haul him closer.

"T-Token," he hissed, "I know I-_uhn_-" Kyle moaned when Token bit down on his collar bone "-started this but we're in public - _shit_-" He shoved the other boy into a holly bush when he spotted some women with her kids rounding the corner. Jumping in after the other boy, he swore under his breath as the holly bushes did their beast to rip his clothes to shreds, and him along with them.

Once the women passed them by Token had gotten his breathing under control. Kyle was sprawled gracelessly across his lap, ass upturned distractingly in his face. The redhead was peering through the bottom of the bush; hat covered in twigs and holly leaves. Token was finding it increasingly difficult to just sit there with Kyle's ass in his face. Fidgeting in growing discomfort, Token cleared his throat. Kyle twisted around to look up at him.

"How bad a pun is it gonna take to get us out of this very painful hiding place and back to your place?"

Kyle grinned, mouth reddened by the force of their kissing. He scrambled up, pulling Token with him. They took off at a dead sprint, both looking deliriously happy as they ran with hands clasped tightly between them.

When they stumbled through the door it was to find an empty house. Kyle didn't waste time, attacking Token's mouth with near violent fervor.

"Hockey game," he breathed in explanation as Token looked alarmed. "They'll be gone until late."

Practically falling up the stairs and tripping over one another all the way to Kyle's room, they collapsed on the bed, hopelessly tangled. Token was attacking Kyle's neck, nibbling up the white column of his throat as Kyle scratched blunt nails through the tight curls of his black hair.

He raised his head to catch Kyle's mouth again, pressing into him, tasting him. They moaned, fingers touching and entwining. Fumbling with his free hand, Token yanked Kyle's sweater up to reveal the coveted torso he'd only glimpsed until then. Fingers dancing across flushed skin, Token thrilled to hear the quiet hush of Kyle's released breath skittering across his face. Kyle eagerly raised his arms, arching up so that Token could pull the sweater the rest of the way off, his hat falling to the floor. Loose curls bounced as Token threw the sweater away, straddling Kyle and holding his wrists to the bed.

They both were breathing heavily with their mouths swollen and wet, pupils blown wide. Kyle narrowed his eyes, testing Token's grip on his wrists. Giving the redhead a lopsided grin, he leaned down to kiss him again, slow and deep. Kyle strained slightly, pushing up against him. He smiled into the kiss and released the other boy's wrists to instead unbutton his shirt. Letting the material slide down his muscular shoulders Token watched Kyle's eyes become heated, a pink tongue darting out to wet his lips. Falling back down over the other boy, Token closed his eyes at the soft slide of bare skin on bare skin, sighing into Kyle's mouth as the redhead opened for him, arms curling up over his back. Nails tested his flesh and Token chuckled, biting down on Kyle's lip.

He could feel Token's erection against his hip, and was just as aware of his own making a mess in his pants. Thrusting up, he held brown eyes steady, moving his hand down and gently rubbing against Token's dick.

Grimacing, his eyes rolled shut and he pushed against Kyle's hand. He bit his lip, looking helplessly down at the redhead. Kyle was gazing at him with unabashed lust that washed over him with unforgiving heat. Heart pounding, Token swallowed and husked, "Kyle-"

A shadow fell across Kyle's face and he withdrew. "Shit," he groaned, "I pushed you into this didn't I? Token, I'm _sorry-_"

"No no no," he protested, "_No._ Miraculously, my terrible pun got us here for whatever reason I can't really figure out-" When Kyle made to push him away he grabbed the boy's wrists and pressed his hand to his heart. "Feel that?"

Frowning, Kyle looked at him in confusion. "What, your obscenely well-shaped chest?"

Dumbfounded, Token stared at him. "Am I really gonna have to take back the claim of brains along with your beauty?"

Moving his fingers experimentally against the stretch of dark skin underneath his palm, Kyle made a noncommittal sound, "Eh?"

"_Kyle_," he urged, grinning exasperatedly when the other boy finally looked back at him, "My heart."

Refocusing his attention, Kyle's brows shot up. "Dude, it's pounding. Are you okay?" Sitting up in concern, he rechecked Token's pulse in his neck before the other boy swatted his hand away.

"I'm more than okay," he laughed. "It's just... I'm realizing that we're actually doing this."

Glancing down, Kyle added another coat of red to his blush and chuckled uncomfortably. "Yes, yes we are."

"And just so we're clear," Token added sincerely, "I want to. Um, I _really_ want to."

"Me too," he said quickly, pressing his hand harder against the fluttering beat of Token's heart. With his other hand he dragged Token's palm over his own pounding heart and chuckled self-deprecatingly. When Token leaned down to kiss him, it dawned on Kyle how very ill prepared they were for this _thing_ they both really wanted to do. "Token," he murmured, "I-I don't have any... uh, anything."

"I don't either," he assured him between kisses, "I got tested for a bunch of stuff before that trip I took to Malaysia a few months ago-"

"Good to know," he interrupted, "But I meant things more along the lines of..." He trailed off awkwardly.

"..._Oh_," said Token. "Those things."

But Kyle wasn't listening. Instead, he was scowling.

"I could go get some," offered Token, but Kyle shook his head.

"We'd have to drive a ways to get them," he said. "The closest place is filled with clerks that know my mom, and anywhere else is staffed by our not so very tactful classmates. " His expression soured further.

Token was getting worried. Kyle looked awful. "We don't have to-"

Kyle cut him off, saying through clenched teeth, "I know where we can get some."

...

Kenny was humming as he thumbed through Cosmo. Bebe had leant it to him after a girly nail-painting session and a quick fuck. Apparently there was an excellent article on the elbow as an erogenous zone. His nails gleamed with lime green polish and he couldn't deny that he kind of enjoyed it; the polish smelled faintly of lime and now he didn't have to worry about cleaning under his nails. Glancing over when his phone buzzed, he groaned as he reached down to rifle through the junk on his floor.

"You make me feel-" he sang distractedly, ignoring the continued buzzing as he folded the page of the magazine to hold his place, "like I'm livin a-" Finally holding up his phone he realized it was a text from Kyle, "-teenage dream... Don't ever nuh huh, don't ever bloo blah..." He looked at the text.

_I will KILL u if u tell ANYONE. _

Followed by: _I need a favor._

Kenny's very blue eyes got exceptionally round and a thin hysterical stream of laughter trickled from between his lips before growing into a full-scale cackle.

...

Kyle scowled as his phone buzzed.

_U GONNA FUCK_

"Jesus Christ," he growled, ears hot with embarrassment. The first text was followed closely by:

_OMG U GONNA FUCK! ?_

"That bastard," he seethed, ignoring it as Token tried to peer curiously over his shoulders. He hunched away, pulling the screen in closer to his body. Another text:

_O. M. GEEEEEE_

"Kenny is an idiot," Kyle stated, never more sure of anything in his life. He hastily texted back a scathing reply to which Kenny answered with ' _UNF UNF UNF'_ .

"Are you sure it was okay to tell him?"

"No," he admitted, "But he's our only chance. And, I mean, Kenny can be discreet-"

Token's eyebrow arched skeptically.

"-for a price." After a beat Kyle deadpanned, "I've made a huge mistake."

An unrealistically short time later there was a tap at the window. Kyle pulled back the curtain to reveal a grinning Kenny. Trading a worried look with Token, he unlocked the window and helped the blond inside. Before he could open his mouth to greet his friend Kenny was already talking. Loudly.

"I won't stay long," Kenny gushed, scattering condoms over the bedspread and hauling out a bottle of lube. "But here are the essentials."

Token noticed his nails. "I like your new look. Lime green suits you."

"And I think purple would suit you," he reflected, holding up a strip of purple condoms. "Grape flavored!"

"I hate grape," Kyle snapped.

Nudging Token conspiratorially, Kenny muttered, "I brought tons of different flavors, man, don't worry. You'll get a cameo from Lewinski."

"What?" Token asked, brows furrowed.

Blinking at him, Kenny said slowly, "You and me are going to have some bro time real soon."

"Bro time," Kyle accused. "What the fuck is bro time?"

Winking at Token, Kenny wrapped his arms around Kyle and squeezed. "Don't you worry your pretty little head over it," he patronized, laying a sloppy kiss on the side of the redhead's face. Over Kyle's head he mouthed to Token, "You are lucky."

Token breathed a nervous laugh and mouthed back, "I know."

"Okay!" Kenny exclaimed, holding Kyle back by his shoulders. "Do you even know how to work this stuff?"

"Well, seeing as we've been living under a rock without internet for the last 18 years," Kyle drawled sarcastically.

"We'll be fine," Token assured the blond, who looked entirely put out now that his task had been completed. "Thanks, man."

"Are you _sure_ you don't need anything else?" Kenny wheedled hopefully, "I'm totally down to do some demonstrations."

Kyle threw the ribbons of grape-flavored condoms at his head. "Be gone!"

"Rude," Kenny scolded. "You know how much money all this was?"

"Then I'll pay you back," Kyle diverted, going to his desk.

"What about the manual labor," he bawled, beseeching Token's sympathy. "I trekked through the cold and risked my life to bring you enough rubbers to build a hot air balloon. _And_ my best lube."

"Well," Token hesitantly started, "What would-"

"Oh, nothing much," promised Kenny innocently.

"Don't believe him!" Kyle warned, glaring at his friend. Kenny shot him a mischievous glance before he prodded Token in the chest with a lime-green fingertip.

"You ever been in a three-way?"

"KENNY!" Kyle bellowed, this time letting fly with the bottle of lube, which Kenny barely managed to duck.

"Kiss, that is," Kenny correctly smoothly. "A three-way kiss."

Kyle snarled, "No way."

"Are you sure?" Kenny purred. "I mean, that can't be much more intimate than using my lube." At Kyle's stormy expression Kenny smirked. "Wait. Is this because you're a prude, or because you don't want me kissing Token, even if by proxy?"

They both were looking at him now and Kyle rolled his eyes, walking over to the bed and glaring at the mass of condoms splayed across it. He could feel two sets of eyes boring into his back. "What do you know?"

"You," he stated flatly, eyes twinkling when Kyle glared at him.

Token glanced between them, perfectly baffled by the exchange. "Um-"

"Then how about just the two of you," Kenny suggested, waggling his eyebrows.

Kyle snorted. "From participant to voyeur?"

"Look at it this way," he whispered, going over to hug Kyle from behind. "You might as well practice for when you're out in front of the rest of the world."

Kyle frowned. "Because we'll be making out in public constantly? Kenny, I'm not you."

"I don't know," he wondered aloud, "At this point you could cut the UST with a knife. And once it's, ah, _resolved_, why should you hold back?"

Token was aware that a strange Kenny-and-Kyle-only force field had been raised around this conversation so he wisely kept his mouth shut. It didn't bother him; he was content to sidle up to the bed and peruse the condom selection. Terror was quickly building to overcome the lust he'd been feeling. He'd never done this before. Glancing over at the redhead still lecturing Kenny, he wondered if Kyle had had sex with another guy. Somehow he didn't think so. That meant that they were generally on the same page. Token had done plenty with girls, and if the way Kyle kissed was any indication the redhead was no sexual shut-in. Shaking his head, Token took a deep breath. There was no denying his attraction to Kyle, and there was no arguing the obvious chemistry they had. Token was swept up in it, on cloud nine. He wanted to talk with him, kiss him, and do much more than that. The guilt, the fear, the hesitation; it was gone. Kyle was a shock to his system, a shock that had brought him back to life. Watching him now, Token was overcome with the want that had been building just below the surface, just waiting for the right moment. But now there'd be no waiting because every moment was right and every moment he waited was wasted.

Crossing his arms, Kyle asked, "Will it make you leave?"

"Like Windex to fly guts, I promise."

He winced at the simile, but Kyle conceded grudgingly, "Fine." Shifting awkwardly, he motioned to Token. "But are you sure he's okay with kissing me in front of an audience? And another thing," he added irritably, "You need to have your hands where I can see them. I don't need you hoarding videos of us in a lip-lock alongside all of your other gems like Cartman's foray into unrequited romance with a goddamn blow-up doll-"

Kenny tuned Kyle out and instead focused on Token. He was holding a strip of condoms, eyes fixed on the redhead. The kid had it bad. Walking past Kyle, ignoring the affronted sounds he was making that may or may not have been insults to his person; Kenny took Token by the hand and led him back to where Kyle stood. The redhead fell into silence, brows knit with suspicion as Kenny tugged Token to stand in front of him.

"One little kiss," he murmured. "And you can be alone. Just a peck, that's all." Kenny's eyes glinted when Kyle glanced at him before looking back to Token.

"Just a peck," Kyle repeated.

"Yup."

Caught in the intensity of Token's gaze, Kyle slid his arms up around the other boy's neck, eyes flickering toward the sound of the condom wrappers still in Token's hand. They'd put their shirts back on in anticipation of Kenny's arrival, but he could feel the heat pouring off Token's body all the same. Tilting his face up, he gently pressed his lips to Token's mouth, keeping Kenny clear in his peripheral. Intending to end the kiss quickly and send Kenny on his way, Kyle wasn't prepared when Token's arms tightened around him and an increasingly familiar tongue dove enthusiastically into his mouth, coaxing involuntary moans from him on contact.

As he unabashedly surveyed this pleasing turn of events, Kenny found his breath a little hard to catch. Token was kissing Kyle with such vigor that he'd bent him back into a graceful dip, the redhead clinging to his shoulders for dear life as the slightly taller boy ravished his mouth. Kenny saw flashes of tongue and heard the outpouring of sweet sounds from Kyle. Suddenly slender hands were buried deep in Token's hair, and a long leg had hooked over Token's back to pull him closer. His jaw dropped when the two seemed to give up the fight against gravity and sailed to the floor, landing in a mass of limbs that seemed entirely intent on bringing their bodies as close as physically possible.

It was when Kyle threw his head back and arched under Token's skillful tongue that Kenny slipped out the window, quite content.

"Token," he whimpered, shoving his hands under Token's shirt to scratch over his back as the other boy ground down onto him, pushing between his legs. They both cried out when reawakened erections pressed through denim. Lifting himself up, Token stared down at Kyle intensely as he rotated his hips in an agonizing circle. Kyle practically writhed, grasping at his arms and using his grip to lift his hips and grind back into delicious friction.

Sweat heated under his brow and in desperation Token tore his shirt from his body, ignoring the snap of buttons. All his vision was Kyle's skin, exposed as the redhead pulled off his shirt and hastily undid his jeans. Cutting off a moan at the sight, Token dove down to take his mouth once more, fingers joining Kyle's to push jeans down slim hips. When his hand touched Kyle's cock through the thin layer of cotton Token pressed his forehead into the juncture of shoulder and neck, sucking hard on the skin there.

He jumped beneath Token's fingers. "Fuck! Token – shit-" He twisted, spreading his legs as Token shoved down the waistband of his underwear and grasped his dick, already wet with precum. "Oh god," he breathed, throwing his head back against the carpet.

The terror and the lust and the beautiful sight of Kyle underneath him scrambled his insides. Token was panting; fisting Kyle, thumbing his weeping slit. He didn't know exactly how Kyle wanted it, but he'd learn. He wanted to know how to make Kyle scream. Watching the twisting myriad of expressions flowing across Kyle's face, he moved his hand as if he were tuning an instrument. Pleasuring Kyle was nearly as good as being touched; each moan, each gasp radiated and swept through him. Grunting with the effort, he twisted his hand, leaning back on his knees cup Kyle further down while his free fingers still tortured him deliciously by stroking the head of his cock.

He didn't care that sweat was beading over his brow, he didn't care that his jeans were still hanging off his ankles and that his boxers weren't even all the way down over his ass. He was helpless. The carpet burned against his back as he thrashed, arms flung out wildly on either side of his body to grasp the rough fibers of the floor. Token didn't take his eyes off his face and Kyle fought to hold his gaze, breaking it only to gasp brokenly as Token thumbed his slit. He realized he was going to cum and bucked hard, warning Token breathlessly, "T-Token, I'm-"

White streaked Kyle's stomach and leaked down over his hand. Token stared at it, stunned as Kyle quickly moved his own hand down to draw it out, squirting the last of his orgasm with loud whimpering breaths. The redhead collapsed back down, chest rising and falling rapidly as he sought to catch his breath. Green eyes slowly came back into focus and found him, dropping to his cum covered hand and widening in dismay.

"Shit, I'm so sorry," he gushed, grabbing his shirt and throwing it over Token's hand to frantically wipe away the mess. Then he looked down to see Token hard as ever and he cursed. "Let me do you now," he pleaded, embarrassment lighting up his face like a stoplight. "God, I'm so sorry. I'm such a schmuck-"

"Yiddish pillow talk," he managed, laughing when Kyle looked even more horrified at himself. "Kyle, stop. Stop!" He grabbed him, tossing the dirty shirt aside. "Stop, okay?"

His heart was racing, eyes fixed on Token's groin as if it was accusing him.

"We can take a moment, you know," he said laughingly, kissing the corner of Kyle's downturned mouth. "To enjoy what some might consider a milestone in our-" he hesitated "-um, our relationship."

Gingerly tucking himself back into his underwear Kyle grimaced as the oversensitive flesh smarted under his touch. "We can take a moment after I return the favor!"

"That wasn't a favor," Token said firmly. He held Kyle's gaze. "I don't want you to think you have to pay me back for doing something that I wanted to do." He inched closer. "That I want to do again."

"No, it's not a favor," he admitted. "But you shouldn't forget that I'm as gay as you."

His brows knit in confusion, suddenly shooting up his forehead as Kyle reached out and gripped him through his jeans.

"I like dick," explained Kyle bluntly, smirking cheekily as Token just moaned and drew him roughly into a passionate kiss that shot him through with renewed hunger.

They sprang apart as someone knocked on the door.

Sheila's voice, subdued and laced with something that made Token's heart sink, came through the door. "Boys, you there?"

Kyle's strangled reply was muffled as he fought down a shirt over his head frantically, "Uh, yeah!"

"Come downstairs now, boys," she said, voice still restrained. "We met the Blacks on the way home from the hockey game. We're all going to sit down and have a talk."

Token looked helplessly at Kyle.

...

TBC

...

-Villain


	7. Chapter 7

A/N: Ready your feels, kiddies. /hides

…

**Chapter 7**

The ticking of the clock was deafening in the dead silence of the room. A plate of cookies sat untouched on the coffee table, flanked by a towering pitcher of fresh iced tea. Condensation trickled down the side, the only movement besides the relentlessly loud journey of the clock hands. Sheila cleared her throat awkwardly when the ice suddenly shifted inside the pitcher, and Token flinched. Next to him Kyle pressed his thigh against him in comfort, stomach clenching when Token just continued to stare miserably at the floor.

Lips pursed, Kyle crossed his arms and tried not to look petulant. "We have homework, so..." he started stiffly. Mrs. Black tore her eyes away from her son and looked at him blankly. He shifted in discomfort but didn't lower his eyes.

His expression was solemn when Mr. Black leaned forward slightly in his seat to address his son. "Token…" He faltered when Token looked at him. Putting his arm around his wife, Mr. Black said firmly, "Son, we want you to come home."

Mrs. Black's voice cracked. "Token, baby, come home."

Something hardened in Token's expression and Kyle automatically moved closer.

"Which of me do you want?"

Sheila and Gerald traded a look. The Blacks appeared stunned, but Mr. Black recovered quickly, his voice icy.

"We want our _son_."

"Yeah," Token snapped, "But _which one_."

Sheila frowned. "Token, now don't be rude. They are your parents."

"No," Token corrected her coolly, "They're _his_ parents. The other Token. The _straight_ Token." Covering her face with her hands, Mrs. Black wept silently into them and Token's eyes flooded with tears. A mixture of anger and sadness fueled the fire and he viciously wiped them away. Kyle was a balm to his nerves, gently touching his arm. Taking strength from that contact, Token said quietly, "I'll come home, but only if I'm really wanted there."

"Token," his mother pleaded, "This isn't you! M-maybe the company you've been keeping-" her eyes fluttered briefly to Kyle "-has you thinking things that just aren't true, honey."

"If what you're implying, Mrs. Black," Sheila said shrilly, "is that my son somehow-"

"Mom," Kyle interrupted hotly. "Just... can you leave it?"

Gerald Broflovski coughed uncomfortably into his fist and stood. "I think we should let Token and his parents have a moment to discuss things."

"No," Token said firmly. "There isn't any more to discuss. I asked a question. There's a yes or no answer."

They all watched as Mr. Black pulled out a brochure from his breast pocket. He laid it neatly on the coffee table, right between the cookies and the iced tea. Token stared at it. Mr. Black stared at him. But it was Kyle who broke the silence.

"Exodus International?" The color drained from his face. "Y-you want him to go get brainwashed and electrocuted into thinking he's straight?"

"It's therapy," Mr. Black corrected firmly.

"It should be outlawed," Sheila shouted, flying to her feet. "Those people think our boys are sick. They want to mess with their heads!"

"If it's not them, then he'll go to a therapist!" Mr. Black challenged, also getting to his feet. "He's too young to decide these things!"

Amidst the yelling Token quietly picked the pamphlet up to stare at the smiling, empty-eyed faces gazing eerily out from the contrived group photo.

"Y-you _kidnap_ our son and then dare to criticize our parenting," Mrs. Black shrieked, hand balled into fists at her sides.

Sheila puffed up like a big red hen, and squawked angrily, "He came here to be safe; your home is unfit for him!"

Sidling up to his wife, Gerald muttered, "Sheila, maybe we should-"

"Now you're calling me an unfit parent?" Mrs. Black looked livid.

Kyle was staring worriedly at Token. "Don't even look at that shit," he whispered, gently tugging the brochure out of Token's hands. "It's a lie. Please..." he faltered, voice dying when Token looked at him, eyes brimming with tears.

"Now before any more of that," Gerald was saying, voice pitched high and clear over the flinging insults flowing between the two women, "There is no legal grounds for accusing us of kidnapping, and there is no way you can force Token home. He's eighteen; he's no longer a minor."

That seemed to shut down the argument effectively and in the aftermath Mrs. Black sought out Token, gazing at him with a wrenching, heartbroken expression. "Token," she pleaded, "We don't want to change you, w-we just want to make _sure_, honey."

Mouth affixed with an unmovable scowl, Mr. Black straightened his jacket and looked directly in Token's eyes. "If you want to come back, Token, you have to agree to therapy."

He opened and closed his mouth several times before giving up completely. Token crumpled, fighting the tears that stung his eyes, vision waveringly filled with the disturbing image of the smiling ex-gays splattered across the cover of the brochure. Beside him, Kyle was fuming palpably, practically thrumming with tension. Token glanced at him when the redhead stood.

"Fuck. You," he said slowly, looking in turn from Mr. to Mrs. Black. While they sputtered and his own parents looked shocked, Kyle grabbed Token's hand and dragged him up. "We're leaving," he stated, eyes gazing deeply into Token's. "Okay?"

"Okay," Token answered quietly, and the next thing he knew they were running.

...

It hadn't been Kyle's idea, but he understood why hiding out at Tweek's house made the most sense. The Tweaks were at the coffee shop, and Kyle knew at least his parents would never think to look for him here. But he was having second thoughts when Tweek tried for the third time to bring them drinks and face-planted before he reached them. Kyle supposed it could be considered cute, though he found it more unsettling, especially when Craig – who'd been there when they arrived – hovered over him like a hawk. As if Craig were a sort of balm, Tweek calmed immediately when the other boy took his hand and helped him up, tutting about the mess. Kyle must have looked stunned because Token nudged him and laughed.

"They've always been like that," he murmured conspiratorially. Standing to take what was left of the snacks Tweek had been carrying, Token sunk back down on the couch and picked around the potato chips for the curliest one. Before he could put it in his mouth Kyle snatched it right out of his hand and crunched down with a satisfied sound.

"I only eat the curled ones," he said by way of explanation, reaching into the bowl and rescuing another folded chip before Token clutched the bag against himself protectively.

Chest fluttering at the discovery of yet another thing they had in common, Token mock-growled, "The curly ones are mine!"

Something coy and definitely dangerous sauntered over Kyle's features and the redhead smirked when Token looked alarmed. "How about this then," he said sweetly. "You can have this curl-" he tugged of a lock of curly red hair and Token blushed "-and we'll share the chips?"

He was pretty sure that if it were at all possible to spontaneously combust from embarrassment and arousal he would have done so in that moment. Making a strangled sound in the back of his throat, Token watched as Kyle took back the bowl and made a show of curling his tongue around a chip.

"Marsh is on his way," Craig interrupted, tossing his phone on a side table. He held a six-pack of Mountain Dew in his other hand, popping one off and tossing it to Token. Then he looked pointedly at Kyle as if he were an unwanted houseplant. "Can you even drink this?"

Pursing his lips, Kyle snapped one off the plastic tie and cracked it open. After taking a long swig, he glared at Craig. "Yeah, I can."

Obviously stressed by the exchange, Tweek broke into a warbled rendition of Kumbayah, which managed to go on for a good minute before Craig unabashedly slapped a hand over the blonde's mouth and said, "Tweek, we talked about this."

When Stan came through the door he made a beeline for Kyle and wrapped his super best friend in a tight hug. Kenny trundled along behind him, arms laden with food. "Can I get in on that action?" he hinted, winking at Token.

Clyde was the last to show up, hauling his Xbox under one arm, the other filled with games. After a brief debate, the boys settled on Call of Duty and played a rousing game of rock, paper scissors to decide the first two to play. While Clyde and Stan discussed strategy, the rest of the group found various places on the couch, lazy-boy, or the floor to curl up with their respective junk food. Tweek and Craig took up one side of the couch while Kenny had wriggled down in between Tweek and Kyle. Token sat on the floor, back to the couch. He'd scooted back to rest his head against Kyle's bent knees, but the redhead had shifted, bringing a leg down on either side of Token's shoulders. Craig gave them a look, but no one said anything.

It was comfortable, easy. Kyle would bend down over Token to reach for the chips, steadying himself on Token's strong shoulder while his stomach pressed the back of the boy's head. At one point when the screen was filled with explosions and the rest of the group was shouting and cheering, Token bent his head back and kissed Kyle's throat while the boy was leaning over him. He could almost feel Kyle's temperature go up.

Nails still bright lime green, Kenny snuck his fingers into the bowl sitting atop Token's lap to snag a few chips and whispered into his ear, "Down, boys." Kyle elbowed him sharply in the guts and Kenny wheezed, but still wore a shit-eating grin despite the death glare that Kyle followed up with. Token laughed, reaching up to tug on a lock of red hair. Like magic, the beast was sated and Kenny stared dumbfounded as Kyle relaxed, refocused on Token. _What sorcery is this?_ he wondered to himself, then he realized, Black_ magic._

Tweek looked nervously at Kenny as the taller blond burst into guffaws of laughter at a seemingly private joke. He couldn't understand what was so funny, but Kenny was like that sometimes.

Later on in the evening Stan and Craig traded a very pointed look. No one noticed except for Tweek and Kenny; one always alert due to his paranoia and the other a natural observer. When that look was followed by a minute nod, Kenny sat up straighter, as did Tweek. Neither knew what that look would entail.

The next moment Stan's player was riddled with bullet holes and shot out of the game. Wordlessly offering it to Kenny, he stood and stretched.

Craig cleared his throat in a decidedly unsubtle way and went into the kitchen. He paused right before the doorway and glanced at Kyle. "Broflovski."

Token rolled his eyes, but Kyle just shrugged. He trotted after Craig into the kitchen to find the lanky boy leaning against the counter, arms crossed. His expression was sour, but resolute. Mirroring his posture across the shiny linoleum floor, Kyle raised his eyebrows questioningly.

"So what is it exactly that's so special about you?" He narrowed his cobalt eyes at the redhead and swept them over the slender frame. "He's says it's not just because you're the 'other' gay guy."

"Oh, you know; we paint our nails, do each other's hair, trade tips on fellatio." Craig scowled. Kyle laughed meanly, "Dude, seriously. I'm not forbidding you and Stan from having your little bitching parties over your bridge game. Just let us do our thing."

"I don't have to tell you that I'll fuck you up if you hurt him."

Kyle smiled. "Token's probably getting the same spiel from Stan."

As a matter of fact, he was. A finger was in his face, nearly touching his nose. Going cross-eyed staring at it, Token recited flatly, "You'll kick my ass if I hurt him. Got it. But I don't think you have anything to worry about."

Huffing irritably, Stan crossed his arms aggressively. "I guess. Kenny told me you rescued him from Cartman."

"Oh, not because of that," Token assured him, "Because I'm pretty sure that Kyle could kick my ass just fine on his own." Glancing over at Tweek, who was watching them with owlish curiosity, Token added, "I owe him so much. The thought of him unhappy makes me feel sick."

Something softened in Stan's face and he hunched down, regarding Token with a whole new level of respect. "Yeah?"

Nodding, Token offered an embarrassed smile. "He's like my hero right now, man." He stiffened when Stan clapped him on the back, face screwed up in emotion.

"He's pretty great," Stan agreed thickly. After a few moments of content silence he asked, "So what now? I know the Broflovski's will let you crash there as long as you need, but is that it with your folks?"

He shrugged. "I don't know. I don't know what they're really thinking, what they really want. But it just sucks right now because all my stuff is still at the house."

"I'm sure Kyle's family-"

"No, no," Token waved him off. "I mean legal stuff. Like documents that say I'm entitled to whatever percentage of my grandpa's inheritance, or my passport. Stuff I _need_."

Stan frowned. "Dude, you're parents aren't gonna keep that shit from you-"

"But what if they don't hand it over unless I go to therapy?" He massaged his temples. "What if they cut me off financially? I can sell the car; get a job... But I want to go to college. And they make way too much money for me to try for financial aid."

Mulling it over, Stan finally asked, "Then what's stopping you from going over there and taking it? If your parents are that iffy right now... Dude, just go take it."

"I won't go to therapy-"

"They won't know you're there," he interrupted impatiently. "We'll help you." Leaving Token leaning against the wall looking completely baffled, Stan fetched Craig and Kyle from the kitchen and gathered the group around him. "We're gonna break into Token's house. Tonight."

Token sputtered helplessly as Stan explained the problem. Kyle looked determined to the utmost and Token protested, "Whoa, no way. Are you kidding? _Break into_ my house?"

"Don't tell me you'd feel guilty," Kyle fumed, completely taken with the idea. "After what they _said_ to you?" He stepped over to the other boy and looked him directly in the eye. "Remember what you said? They're _his_ parents, not yours. Not right now."

"Easy for you to say," Token whispered. "Kyle, you have a home and a family-"

"_Your_ home and _your_ family, too," he insisted, eyes burning with promise. "I told you didn't I?"

"Look, if we're gonna do this," Kenny drawled, "We might wanna head out now. It's still early, enough that we won't draw too much attention."

...

The street was silent but for the faintest echo of the countless flat-screens blaring inside the houses. Walking in randomly spaced pairs, the boys snuck up to the mansion. No lights were on. Token's parents slept on the top floor, and Token was a floor below. If they were quiet, no one would be the wiser.

Token unarmed the security alarms and took a deep breath before opening the back door. He hesitated, and Kyle gave him a gentle push. The house was vast and silent. The darkness made it easier for Token, unable to see the couch he'd curl up on with his parents, or the dining table where they would eat together and talk about their day. He didn't have to see the details of the home he'd grown up in, where he'd received almost nothing but praise from his parents.

Sneaking up the marble staircase to the second floor was largely uneventful. They each stood out like ink stains, dressed from head to toe in black. But the absence of wood saved them from creaky floors and soon enough all seven of the boys were standing outside Token's bedroom door. All of them were looking a Token expectantly, hefting the duffle bags on their shoulders. After the moment stretched, Kyle and Craig simultaneously started forward, glaring at each other as they both put their hands on Token's shoulders.

"We're with you," Craig whispered.

"You need to do this," added Kyle in a low voice. "This way, no matter what happens, you'll be safe to do what you need to do."

Biting his lip, Token slowly pushed open the door. It creaked softly, revealing what could be a called a pristine bedroom by teenage boy standards. They filed in, Kyle hanging back with Token. Kenny flipped on the light switch, wincing at the bright light that suddenly flooded the room. Each of them had agreed on different things to gather: gaming system, games, clothes, even photos. As the others rooted around and started filling their duffel bags as quietly as possible, Token just looked around the room.

It didn't feel like his any more. Though none of the other boys would know, Token could tell his parents had come in and already searched through his things. That may have been a common occurrence for most kids, but as an only child Token was more independent, more trusted by his parents. There was always just a little more respect between the members of his household. This was such a... violation. The floor was a little too clean, his bed made, drawers that had been open before were now shut. What had they found? Evidence maybe, in their eyes.

"You said there was a safe or something?" Kyle probed gently. "With all that stuff you needed."

Token blinked at him, like he'd forgotten Kyle was there. "...Yeah." He shook himself. "Yeah. It's over here." Together they went over and dragged out a sizeable safe from under the bed. With clammy hands token spun the dial in a specific pattern and waited for the door to pop open. Inside the sleek red safe, rectangular in shape with the opening on the top, was a collection of documents, Token's passport, and a watch. "It was my grandfather's," he said by way of explanation, strapping the watch onto his wrist and tapping on the face. The clock hands were stilled, but he kept it on nonetheless, pulling his sleeve down over it.

The safe was tucked back beneath the bed and the duffel bags were full. Craig, Tweek, Clyde, Stan, and Kenny shuffled out of the room. Kyle caught the warning look Craig sent him and rolled his eyes. Now it was just he and Token left. The other boy's shoulders were slumped, one arm across his chest to grip his bicep. Wandering over, Kyle slid his hands around Token's waist and murmured in his ear, "This isn't the end. They'll wake up one morning and realize." When Token turned to look at him, doubt hanging heavy in his gaze, Kyle shrugged. "Mine did. It wasn't easy, and some days..." He hesitated, squeezing Token tighter against him, perching his chin on the other boy's shoulder. "But whatever happens, it's worth it."

"How do you know that," Token said lowly, pulling away from the redhead guiltily. "You don't."

Stepping in front of Token, Kyle caught his eyes and held them. "I know that we can do this-" he leaned forward and pressed his mouth to Token's, running his tongue along his lower lip before drawing back "-without being afraid. Not anymore. Isn't _that_ worth it?" Token dropped his gaze and Kyle hissed, shaking him by his shoulders. "It's – it's time for you to be _you_," he urged vehemently, anger nearly choking his words.

It all seemed to collect into a point, bright and burning, all at once. Freedom; no more hiding. It hurt, it hurt terribly and Token knew that a kiss couldn't vanquish away the emptiness. But the scorching heat bleeding from Kyle's mouth chased it into a forgotten corner of his mind. Like coming out of a dark room into blinding sunlight. He grabbed Kyle and pulled him forward into a harsh, desperate kiss.

Minutes later all seven of them went careening down the quiet suburban street, hooting and jostling each other. Adrenaline sang in Token's veins, and he ran with Kyle's hand clasped in his. He might as well have wings.

Kyle's household was asleep when they all snuck into the living room, leaving the duffel bags behind the couch. Then Kyle all but chased the others out, ignoring Kenny's all-knowing smirk before he dragged Token upstairs, careful of the squeaky floorboards. His heart was pounding; cheekbones high with color. Breathy laughter was all he could manage as Token shut the door and rounded on him, eyes deep and dark. Backing up, stumbling against the side of the bed, Kyle stripped out of his jacket and shirt. Token twisted the cotton before he freed his hands, effectively binding his wrists as he kissed Kyle roughly, free arm winding around the redhead's waist to haul him closer.

Their kiss turned into something lingering and sweet when Kyle lowered his arms down around Token's neck. They took time to taste each other, thrill at the feeling of bare skin. Token nosed under his chin and nibbled his jawline, pushing his hand past Kyle's waistband to grip his ass. Their teeth clacked, tongued flashing between moist lips. Kyle moaned, gasping when Token pushed his thigh between slender legs. "You're worth all of it," Token panted, biting down on Kyle's lower lip and sucking gently. "You, _you_."

Kyle melted underneath him, trembling. Token's chest ached with want, his heart pounding. He pushed Kyle to the bed, struggling out of his own clothes as Kyle stripped. Their gaze didn't break and by the time Token took hold of his cock they both were flushed and aching. Kneeling, Token pressed kisses to Kyle's chest. Loose curls of red tickled his face while thin fingers lightly scratched against his scalp. Pressing forward, Token slipped between Kyle's legs, the angle craning his neck to the verge of painful but he didn't care. Kyle's knees rested against his ribs, and the redhead slipped from the bed, clumsily landing in a half-straddle against Token. Their arms wound around each other, bodies straining to touch closer than skin would allow.

There was nothing in his head. Just a rushing sound. His ears were hot, lips aching; heart a caged bird viciously beating its wings. Token's hands held him close and Kyle arched into him, utterly lost in their kiss. He was completely terrified, but there was no force on the planet that could make him stop kissing Token, make him stop running his hands over his skin. When the core of heat between their legs touched Kyle gasped, flinching. The pleasure was so cutting, so precise than Kyle almost sobbed, writhing in Token's grip as the other boy pressed their twin erections together in a loose fist. "Token," he pleaded, "I don't want to cum like this. I-" he faltered. Helplessly, he looked over at the box of condoms Kenny had left there and at the bottle of lube. Taking a deep breath, he dragged his teeth over the shell of Token's ear and husked, "I want you to cum inside me. And I want to cum while you fuck me."

A strangled sob made it out his throat, and Token pulled Kyle flush against him once more, devouring his mouth as he thrust against him. "Yes," he managed between kisses, breath thin and fast, "I want to fuck you... But, are you su-"

Shoving Token off him, Kyle licked his lips predatorily. "Sure I want to feel your cock? _Yes_," he insisted. His eyes were bright; glowing as Token grabbed the condoms and lube. He looked terrified. "You scared?"

"Yeah," he admitted, trying not to look at Kyle sitting there leaking and hard for fear of being overwhelmed. "I don't want to hurt you. I've only ever... with girls."

Now a newer, darker shade of red floated up to the surface of Kyle's face and he bit his lip. "I've, uh, practiced." Token looked like he was choking and Kyle hastily crawled forward to pound him on the back. "Token! Jesus, are you okay?"

His eyes were wide as saucers. "That's..." he gulped, "The hottest thing I've ever heard in my life." Images of Kyle fingering himself, stretching himself. Token knew the mechanics; after all, what was the internet for? But the idea that Kyle... He felt dizzy. "I'll go slow."

"Yeah," Kyle agreed, lust heating his gaze to molten. "I want you to." Turning, he laid his torso over the side of the bed, knees planted firmly on the carpet. Smoothing his palms over the coverlet, he twined his fingers in the fabric, anchoring himself. "I'm not going to last." He looked over his shoulder. "Please, Token?"

He could've cum right then. Kyle had spread his knees wide, back arched at a positively _filthy_ angle, ass stuck out like an offering. The muscles of his shoulders were standing out, pale skin dusted with pink. And his eyes were peering over his shoulder straight into Token's soul. Curls cut the intensity of the gaze, but Token was no less blissfully trapped. He took his time sweeping his eyes over the other boy, admiring the beauty of his nude form, heating when he looked over his exposed ass, caught up on the heavy erection hanging down between his legs. No fantasy, no wet dream, not anything did this moment justice. Part of Token wanted to freeze time, make Kyle promise to never, ever move from this position.

Biting his lip, Kyle spread his legs wider, breath hitching as cool air touched places on him that he'd never seen for himself. The way Token was looking at him; Kyle wanted to spread himself open for Token to see everything. He wanted him to touch everything, fuck everything. Trembling, Kyle let his head fall back to the bed, pressing his feverish forehead into the cool blanket. He moaned brokenly from the searing fervor of Token's gaze alone. "Please," he whispered. "Please."

The weight of what was being offered wasn't lost on Token. It was with reverence that he moved forward to lay a hand on Kyle's back, smoothing it over the stretch of skin so blindingly hot that he felt in his marrow. Even a gentle touch left him breathless; he was afraid for what would happen when he was finally inside Kyle. The thought rushed between his legs and Token groaned, helpless under the sway. Reaching tentatively forward with his other hand, he pressed it dry against Kyle's opening. Beneath his fingers the redhead shuddered hollowly, a faint spatter of whispers tickling his ears. He squeezed lube onto his fingers, smearing the slippery liquid around. Again he pressed, this time hard enough to slip inside.

His reaction was instant. Biting his lip hard enough to almost draw blood, Kyle arched his back at an even harsher angle, opening up for Token's fingers. The stretch burned, but his desire for what followed easily drowned out any discomfort. "Yes," he breathed. "You can do another, but wait after that."

Obeying the directive, Token twisted his fingers. He thrust them experimentally in and out, wondering as the ease of movement, the velvet vice that clenched around them. Kyle was tight. His mind skirted around the idea of his cock being pushed up inside, widening Kyle enough to take his girth. Breath stuttering, he tested a third finger and paused when Kyle uttered a high-pitch gasp. "I'm sorry," he blurted, but Kyle was shaking his head.

"S'good," he confirmed, pushing back to take the third digit in deeper. "It's fine." Forcing himself to relax, Kyle ran his fingers over his erection. The tingle of warmth distracted him as another more painful stretch jarred his nerves. "Slow, go slow." He felt Token press in centimeter by centimeter. It tickled in a way that caused ghosts of sensation to drift up his spine and uncurl lazily back down over the front of his body. Beneath the surface pleasure there was a yawning ache, the kind that needed to be filled. Kyle canted his hips, gasping when the ache sharpened into a more focused feeling. "T-token," he urged, fisting himself harder. "Move them-" Token curled his fingers and Kyle had to bite the comforter to stifle his cry. Saliva slicked his lips as he thrashed and moaned, Token pushing and teasing inside him. It needed to stop now, or-

Kyle sobbed into the mattress, entire body trembling as he squeezed his dick in an unforgiving hold. The orgasm that was threatening to crest withdrew, but he kept his grip tight. He wanted to cum with Token inside of him.

"Now," he begged wantonly, clenching his ass muscles around Token's fingers. "Token, do it now."

Pulling his fingers free, Token tried not to stare at Kyle's ass. Instead he stared at the bottle of lube. "Kyle, I don't want to hurt you."

"You won't," he grated, teeth clenched. "It's not like you haven't had sex before... Just use a lot of lube, okay?"

Hands shaking, Token rolled the condom over himself, and squirted lube down his erection. Slicking it into a thick coat, he spread more around Kyle's hole, wetting the inside even further while the redhead mewled beneath his touch. Reaching up with his clean hand, he tugged on Kyle's shoulder. "I need to see your eyes," he said, voice barely above a whisper.

They held each other's gaze as Token lined the head of his cock up and began to push. Kyle's mouth was open, panting, his eyes wild with the sensation. Token gritted his teeth and continued to push, careful and slow, watching every flicker of emotion careening through Kyle's expression.

His skin stretched around the thick head of Token's dick. Impossibly his body swallowed it, accompanied by a thin whimper from Token. Kyle kept his eyes on Token's, marveling at the pulse he felt in the other boy's cock. "Keep going," he insisted, breathing steadily as he relaxed his body. Eventually his head sunk to the coverlet, upper body curved so he could see Token move. The beautiful juxtaposition of their skin shining with sweat emphasized the lines of muscles flexing in Token's abdomen. Every line of sinew stood out with concentration and Kyle knew it was because Token was holding back, scared of hurting him.

By now he was halfway in, a gasp tearing past his lips when Kyle inadvertently clenched around him. "Tight," he blurted, hips jerking. Kyle tensed with the moment, but made no discouraging sound. His green eyes were glazed over, lips wet with saliva as his tongue ran over them. Velvet grip on his cock was a furnace of blissful pressure and Token was sure he'd cum right then if he moved any more. He was fully seated inside the redhead, balls pressed to the tight skin of his perineum. The cheeks of Kyle's ass were pert while they spread against him, soft and warm along his hips.

"Give me just a second," Kyle whispered; his breath hitching when Token stroked his back. He felt more lube slide down his ass, Token's fingers spreading it liberally around his stretched entrance. For some reason Kyle had to turn and bury his face in the bed, overcome with some unnamed vulnerable emotion. He could feel it when Token leaned over him, the heavy cock inside of him shifting subtly with the movement, drawing long lines of pleasure through his entire body.

"Kyle, I'm sorry. Are you-"

"Stupid," Kyle cut in, voice breaking off when Token ran his fingers through his hair. "Don't worry, I'm just... I'm feeling a lot right now and..." he trailed off helplessly, whimpering into the blankets.

His heart clenched. "Do you need me to stop?" Every fiber of his being screamed at the idea, but Token couldn't possibly go on if Kyle wasn't with him completely.

"Don't. You. Dare," he bit out, fingers clawing at Token's thigh. Biting his lip, Kyle rocked forward, both of them crying out at the startling rush of heat, before he pushed back. Impaling himself on Token's cock, Kyle threw back his head, body skewed at an even more indecent angle. "Now now now now," he chanted.

Voice strangled, Token replied with something resembling the English language, doubling over to grip Kyle's hips, his lubed fingers slipping. He pushed a little further in, enthralled by the sight of Kyle's body opening for him, taking him in so deep. When he pulled out they both released a pent-up moan. His thrust was a little harder, Kyle bucking against the bed with a thin gasp. Trying to remember the angle of his fingers that had made Kyle writhe, Token canted his hips and grinned with relief when the redhead collapsed on the bed, shaking from head to foot. Sweat was beading over his brow as he quickened the pace, hips twisting with every thrust to try and find that spot inside of Kyle.

Weakly he pushed back every time Token slammed into him, feeling the pressure of that thick cock all the way to the back of his throat. He curled around to watch Token, putting an image to the feeling of fingers digging into his hips, soft gasps and moans, and that filthy beautiful sound of skin slapping skin. Precum streaked the side of the bed and Kyle nearly sobbed with the pressure building in his erection. It almost hurt, but was bulldozed by the intense pleasure crashing through him, like an explosion with Token's cock at the epicenter. It shouldn't be this good, should it? he thought dazedly, almost cross-eyed with lust. Token's chestnut brown eyes were closed, bottom lip trapped between his teeth. His brows were knit with concentration and it fully hit Kyle in that moment that _Token_ was _fucking_ him. It was Token giving him this, and him also giving to Token. Brown eyes opened as if hearing his thoughts and Token leaned over to give him a clumsy kiss, smiling in a manner that tugged at Kyle's heart in a most ridiculously romantic way.

"I'm close," Token breathed against his lips apologetically, but Kyle only shook his head.

"Me too," he said. "Make me cum, Token."

Token moaned, rearing back on the balls of his feet to thrust harder, watching hungrily as Kyle's curls flew over his face as he was pushed over and over into the bed. Hanging down between the ivory pillars of Kyle's legs was his erection, swollen and red. Still thrusting erratically, Token curled his hand around Kyle's hips and took hold of his cock, leftover lube slick enough to ease the action. Kyle muffled a yell into the blankets, thrusting desperately into Token's fist.

It built like a wave, tears splitting Kyle's eyes when Token hit his prostate dead on and he was blinded by the crash of his orgasm. He screamed into the bed, teeth gnashing the rough material until he rolled into the feel of Token's teeth sinking into his shoulder as the other boy came inside of him.

His entire body clenched into one arrow of fire that left him boneless and exhausted. He struggled up so as not to crush Kyle, and slowly pulled out. They both hissed when he broke free, hypersensitive in the wake of their orgasms.

Token carefully stripped the condom off, tying it in a knot. He touched Kyle's back, waiting for green eyes before he ambled over to the desk to grab tissues. The condom was wrapped tightly and thrown away, hopefully safe from Sheila's nosy tendencies. Then between them they cleaned off the lube and traces of cum still clinging to the skin of Kyle's legs.

With a wad of soiled tissues sitting between them, Token and Kyle stared at each other. Their fingertips were touching lightly on the carpet. The quiet of night descended once more, and Kyle was so thankful that his parents and brother were far down the hall, and that Ike slept like a log and his parents wore earplugs to bed (after their new neighbors moved in with a garage band). He hadn't been thinking before, not about anyone else. Only Token. And still, with the satisfying ache starting in his ass, the stretch of his well-worn muscles and the smell of sweat and sex permeating the air of his room—it was Token.

He took a deep breath and exhaled slowly, letting his eyes wander down Kyle's body. Slender, bordering on thin. Pale, dusted with a faint map of freckles like constellations in a twilight sky. When Kyle was younger he didn't have any, but after summers in the sun his skin blossomed with them. Then, like hibernating fireflies they faded during the colder months. Token smiled to himself, thinking of Kyle like the changing seasons.

"Even if you kicked me in my sleep every night, I don't think I'd care," Kyle said suddenly, his eyes very bright.

Token laughed, butterflies a frenzy of giddiness in his stomach. "And even if you drool all over me every night, I wouldn't care."

"We're going to win that scholarship."

Scooting over to sit next to the redhead, Token brushed his fingers over the darkening bite mark on Kyle's shoulder. "The feminist writers of the Victorian Era won't lead us astray."

"You're very eloquent," Kyle tiredly murmured, head suddenly lolling back against the edge of the bed. "I'll need to work you harder next time."

It would be a bold-faced lie if those words didn't go straight to his cock. How it could it even stir after such an intense orgasm eluded him, but Token wasn't concerned with that. "Next time?"

"Next time," he confirmed, covering a yawn. "And the next and the next and… You get the gist."

"I like the gist," he said enthusiastically, laughing when Kyle slumped over into his lap.

"Mmm," he answered, noncommittal. His body was quickly slipping into sleep. Part of him was afraid of the pain he might feel tomorrow, but the means to that end were more than worth it.

Digging through the dresser, Token found them both pajamas and cajoled Kyle into them, rolling them both under the blankets. The redhead was nestled against his chest, mumbling about gists and feminists and lube. Token wondered how many nonsensical things he'd get to hear Kyle say before this dream had to end. Fighting back the cold feeling that thought inspired, Token turned to kiss Kyle gently, pleased when sleepy lips responded and the redhead grinned.

Token lay awake that night as Kyle slept. In the duffel bags downstairs was everything he needed to go on with his life. The knife of his parents' betrayal cut deep, and continued to draw blood even now. But he believed Kyle; that they would eventually come around. Until then, Token contented himself with the comfort of Kyle's presence and the undeniable force working between them, binding them in ways he'd never known were possible. He supposed he and Kyle really were a flock now, as the saying went. And from now on Token would be proud of his feathers.

Chuckling, he quieted when Kyle curled against his chest.

"Thank you," he whispered.

…

THE END

...

A/N: Thanks for coming along for the ride, everyone. That might have been my favorite sex scene to write ever... The Toyle ship is officially sailing!

I'd like to dedicate this story to xnowherex. Her Toyle art is gorgeous and hugely inspiring.

-Villain


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